


Just Another Way to Scream Your Name

by runicmagitek



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Missing Scene, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Reunions, Superpower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19056286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: She didn't want to return. What was left for her in a world after losing everything? Once the battle is finally over, Wanda remembers the voice that comforted her when she vanished. She still hears it—hearshim. Maybe this time she can bring him back.





	1. Chapter 1

She swore she heard him.

Not when chaos erupted around them and he murmured affectionate reassurance. Those honeyed words died with him until all that survived was his lifeless body in her arms. After that. When the world quieted and her consciousness blurred. They lost. Some more than others. Life and reality faltered, and she only focused on his tender whispers trickling into her mind.

What a tempting illusion. That’s what it was, right? She was no stranger to such tricks. But whatever it was, she _wanted_ it. More than anything. Even if it meant fading out of existence, at least _he_ would be there.

Thus Wanda closed her eyes, smiled, and leaned back into the void which consumed her.

Warmth enveloped her like a blanket. Perhaps it _was_ an actual blanket tangled in her legs and draped across her shoulders. Again his voice lured her in. She rolled to the origin, weightless and effortless, and pried her eyes open.

White light blinded her. Faint colors blurred and bled together—a broken, fuzzy kaleidoscope found only in dreams. Where was she? Where was _this_? She pawed the area, unable to confirm or deny what was in front of her.

Nothing denied the sweep of hair tucked behind her ear, the subtle motion brushing her lobe, and the sound which filled her. “Hey.”

She gasped. His voice…. No longer a distant echo, but inches away. It was him. It had to be. And that single word plummeted Wanda through the depths of her mind to unravel countless memories shared together, hazier than the surrounding shapes.

There was a time when she doubted herself—feared herself—and found comfort in someone who considered her very existence more of a marvel than his own. They respected one another; not immediately, but in time. Curiosity followed, no surprise to anyone. At least not in regards to him; doors eluded him on a good day, let alone human logic. But that curiosity rooted deeper than a thirst for knowledge. It screamed in the smallest of gestures: how he greeted her daily, when he held those pesky doors open for her, when he looked to her and no one else as she spoke. The words he chose for her and everything left unsaid lingered between them until her heart raced.

She missed that while laying low in Edinburgh, getting by on those brief memories they shared and yearning they acted sooner on all of them. How could he possibly welcome her back into his life after what had happened? And yet he did. Wanda loved that about him. Maybe too much. Enough to want to rip the world apart if it meant keeping him alive.

It was his idea to visit throughout her seclusion. She waited without a word and chewed her lips raw; it was like sneaking out of foster homes growing up to spend a night with a silly boy. Running off wherever she pleased—not a first for Wanda. It would be, however, the first time she did so with a man. And said man attracted her in mind, body, and soul without ever trying or noticing. Or so she convinced herself.

And this? This was safe. Her chosen location, sure, but more importantly _him_. Wanda forgot what that felt like. Her words flowed effortlessly next to him. She snuggled into his lap while he read borrowed books on topics his innate knowledge lacked. He snaked loose arms around her when she demonstrated finesse in the kitchen. Tried to, anyways. Her focus faded when gentle lips peppered her neck.

Memories overlapped from their elusive time in Edinburgh. Despite the brevity of his existence, he absorbed and comprehended more than most people would in a lifetime; how could she not look at him in awe?

That same man was composed and eloquent compared to those who arrogantly claimed to be as such, even when he propositioned her for something beyond idle companionship. The way he looked at her after asking her permission, nothing humoring his features as he waited in silence, said everything she wanted to hear.

She simply smirked. “ _What took you so long?_ ” Wanda recalled asking.

Doubts swirled within until she teetered towards nausea. There were others before him—all faceless ghosts for what they were worth. She longed to be perfect for someone who was already that.

But he cupped her face and smoothed a thumb over her cheek. “ _It_ _’s alright,_ ” he had whispered. “ _We can learn together. So long as you are happy, then I_ _’m happy._ ”

“ _I_ _’m happy you’re here,_ ” she said, pawing at his chest, anxious for his lips on hers.

“ _So am I_.”

He kept that promise. He proved to be gentle and patient and attentive and passionate and _damn_ persistent. Those tense nerves unwound as Wanda melted into him and begged for more than kisses. Her world crumbled until all that remained was the one who left her quaking and screaming his name.

Vision had a point—they should have stayed in bed. Maybe he’d be allowed to leave if it meant returning with tea and snacks. Other than that, they could tangle themselves in each other, literally and figuratively glowing with joy. No worries about the mind stone lodged in him or the perils looming in the future. No need to fight for their lives. None of that.

Just the two of them. That was all that mattered.

Maybe that’s where she was now. Back in bed, no longer haunted by the nightmare that was life. Her chronically taut muscles relaxed. Her heart slowed down. Her shallow breaths deepened. She cracked a smile and basked in that voice echoing in her head.

_It_ _’s like you never left._ Tears prickled behind her eyes. “Hey,” she said, her voice a feeble flutter.

“I missed you.”

She wanted to laugh. Nothing left her lips. “You make it sound like it’s been years.”

He hummed, the vibrations flooding her skin. “Perhaps.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.”

“Don’t be. Not for that—not for anything. It’s alright.”

Those words ricocheted through her mind. He uttered them in Sokovia, when the Accords and news highlights glared at her, before they reunited in Scotland, in between kisses while he undressed her.

When he asked her to kill him.

_It_ _’s alright._

_It_ _’s alright._

_It_ _’s alright._

_I love you._

Wanda hitched her breath. “Is this real?”

“Should it not be?”

Maybe. How the hell was she to know anymore? So long as he was there, what else mattered? And his serene voice, his breath teasing the nook of her neck, his warmth radiating through her, his fingertips ghosting her body… it was real. Wasn’t it?

Her smile widened and she wrestled to discern anything through that blurry haze. She settled her palm into what she believed to be his shoulder. Inching closer, she dared to confirm one last notion before accepting her fate. She failed to restrain herself those mornings she stirred awake and found him still asleep; she loved stealing kisses until he opened his eyes and reciprocated the sentiment. Oh, how she yearned for that now—the smallest pleasure turned into a rare luxury. This time, however, he didn’t need to wake up. Neither of them did. She welcomed this ephemeral dream as much as those lips she sought out.

And it shattered before she found him.

Her organs contorted and jolted, like falling in reverse. The horrified gasp skittered in her throat. Bright eyes snapped wide open. A gentle wind washed over Wanda. She curled fingers into fists, rich soil lodged beneath her nails. Erratic breaths rattled her body as she blinked in disbelief.

No haze muted her world. The jungles of Wakanda sat in silence, save for the occasional breeze and distant songbird.

She held her breath, unable to blink back tears. _This_ _… this is…._ Dropping her gaze, she froze. No one sprawled on the ground. _No, this can_ _’t be right._ Scanning the premise, she snapped a hand up, already channeling crimson energy to eviscerate that son of a bitch responsible for everything. Both her hands were free this time; killing him would be like shattering glass. Easy, simple. Except she intended to tap that glass and watch every crack splinter off until she allowed it to dissolve to diamond dust.

The area was empty, though. Her battle-posed hand trembled. Wanda forced herself to breathe.

_What is going on?_ she mused in between millions of panicked and wrathful thoughts. _We lost. I know we did._ And yet as she settled into death’s embrace, she snapped back to life. As if it never occurred to begin with.

But that didn’t explain why Vision was missing.

Her heart skipped. Maybe he survived. A fraction of a possibility, but she refused to rule it out. Whatever deemed her worthy of life had to consider him, as well.

Branches rustled and earth shifted. Wanda jumped to standing, arms sweeping with ribbons of burning energy trailing behind. Her glowing eyes narrowed on the source. Thoughts whispered in her mind—a white noise she learned to tune out over the years. A simple wish resonated within and the telepathy amplified.

For a fleeting moment, she swore she heard Vision within those thoughts.

Wanda focused again. Maybe she imagined it—a mere afterimage leftover from her slumber. Distinct thoughts rang through and caught her attention. Dropping her guard, she furrowed her brow and witnessed her allies stepping out into the clearing.

“Finally!” Okoye marched past the group and motioned her chin at Wanda. “I told you she was somewhere around here. We’d be stupid not to bring her along.” Twirling her spear, she glared at Bucky. “ _Now_ we can head out.”

Before Wanda could even ask, Bucky jogged to meet her.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d still be here,” he said, slowing to a halt.

Her shoulders rolled up her neck. “Where was I supposed to be?”

His lips parted, but nothing surfaced. That was alright; his mind said enough. Bucky was as confused as she was, minus the bitter anguish reserved for fumbling with the life of a loved one in what felt like the span of five minutes. And nowhere in his mind did she find an answer as to where Vision was.

“Better yet,” someone said from behind Bucky, “where should _all_ of us be this very moment?”

Wanda cocked her head and peered past Bucky. She didn’t recognize the caped man. His surface thoughts were well-guarded and offered her silence—a trick few were aware of, let alone capable of applying—though nothing prickled under her skin in his presence.

“And that is?” Wanda asked, her gaze softening.

He moved his arms similar to how she wove her powers. A different energy resonated from him, unlike her own. When a portal lined with vibrant embers opened midair, she wondered what else he knew besides sorcery.

“How about I explain on the way?” He smirked. “It’s a bit of a story.”

 

* * *

 

They returned for a reason, but she didn’t. Not at first. She had accepted death and clung to the newfound solitude in her defeat. Maybe it was all a simple, sweet dream. It was only a matter of time before she woke up. But she and half of the universe were revived with the same snap that erased them. Those who could fight planned on ensuring it stayed that way.

With a portal opening, Wanda gazed at the desolate battlefield and found her enemy. She woke up with rage, reluctant to return when she resigned herself to death, but now something new burned in her veins. It seared and fueled her powers, like a waterfall breaking free from a dam. Finally, she could avenge the one she was unable to save.

She almost killed him. It was easier than she imagined. Though Thanos fell in the end; who dealt the final blow was of little importance. His life and all his minions dissolved just as she had. Wanda hoped no light or comfort greeted them on the other side.

But their victory came at the cost of another life. Nothing brought Tony back, be it their combined powers or the infinity stones. Bitterness tinged her heart and refused to mourn for him, only to remembered that if it wasn’t for his brilliance, then perhaps she wouldn’t have met Vision.

Wanda wrinkled her brow as she faded to the back of the crowd. _Why has no one mentioned Vizh? Aren_ _’t they worried?_ The truth unfolded in the time between the battle and preparations for Tony Stark’s funeral. Vision never vanished after Thanos’ initial victory; he was a colorless corpse buried in a place he had never seen, surrounded by names he never knew.

“We did what we thought was best,” was what everyone told Wanda. “We figured it was what you would have wanted.”

She swallowed down cold laughter, yielding to a slight nod and smile. What the fuck did any of them know was best for either of them? It sure as hell didn’t involve forgetting someone beneath six feet of dirt topped with engraved marble. It was one of the many reasons why she bonded with Vision—no one else bothered to spend the time to understand their lives.

But he did. Vision looked at her and found beauty while the rest of the world cowered and scowled in her direction. With Vision, she felt human again, felt a semblance of home. Without him, Wanda wasn’t sure where she belonged in the universe.

 Then again, it was no surprise that those who survived—who had _five damn years_ to process everything—stayed unfazed. For Wanda, it was mere days since she last spoke to Vision. The other week, they lounged in bed, giggling over whether to leave that simple comfort. How could anyone expect her to forget? But like Tony, Vision was dead. Nothing anyone could do to reverse that.

_And yet,_ Wanda mused, _why is it that I found him beside me after I vanished?_

* * *

She thought of him constantly, even as others mourned. Navigating the Starks’ residence after the wake, Wanda scanned the cozy rooms adorned with technology. Every piece of furniture had its place, straying no farther than two inches out of alignment with the surrounding interior. Even layers of paint coated the walls and no motes of dust lingered on polished wood surfaces. All signs of a perfect, normal home. Or so she was told.

The smile surfacing on her features pained Wanda; he would have loved it. Not because of the forced atmosphere, but of how human it was. The immaculate precision married with gadgets—both for young and adult audiences—screamed of Tony, Pepper, and their daughter. No other house could be _their_ home.

Now loved ones throughout a lifetime gathered within. The welcoming allure of the home faded. What dwelled in its place overwhelmed Wanda and sent her to a corner to curl up and observe.

Each sentient creature vibrated with a force only Wanda understood. It flowed through her like ripples in a lake—their emotions, thoughts, desires, fears, everything. Unique imprints floated by her from Steve’s unyielding spirit to Scott’s impulsive, yet devoted nature to Carol’s conscientious spunk. It was no different to Wanda’s life than differentiating colors, but a particular energy once stood out amongst those.

When his voice echoed in her head—even now—she detected nothing. Maybe it was an illusion. A blissful one, at that. But Vision was dead. She had watched him slip through her fingers once and then again. The mind stone granted him life and without it, he was an empty shell.

Except humans weren’t powered by cosmic forces. If his energy source was severed, perhaps something of equal power could—

Wanda almost collapsed to the floor when in clicked. She curled her fingers and wove energy between her hands, recalling the nights when Vision marveled at her abilities or requested her guidance when trying to comprehend his own.

“ _You have a tremendous gift, Wanda,_ ” he had once told her, back when the Sokovia Accords surfaced.

A gift. She scoffed at the thought. “ _And yet people wish for me to never use it._ ”

“ _That_ _’s not what the Accords state._ ”

“ _I know what it implies._ ” She struggled to direct her glare elsewhere; Vision didn’t deserve her wrath when it was directed to anyone but him. “ _I don_ _’t need to read people’s mind to understand their impressions of me. One glimpse of their faces... how they look at me...._ ” She shook her head. “ _It_ _’s enough. Trust me._ ”

That didn’t stop Vision from circling around and dropping to his knees to catch her eyes. “ _And trust me when I say that it_ _’s a shame they will never comprehend what you are capable of._ ” A slight smirk tugged those enticing lips. “ _Even you don_ _’t know._ ”

She raised an eyebrow. “ _And you do, Vizh?_ ”

“ _No. Not entirely, but I know when I look at you and your abilities, you_ _’ve only scratched the surface of what you’re capable of._ ”

Wanda smoothed her fidgeting hands over one another. “ _All I_ _’m capable of is destroying lives._ ”

Vision rested his hands over hers, the simple touch calming the tremble which refused to stop. She ignored the skips in her pulse and memorized the nooks in his fingers, the conscious tenderness in how he held her, and the electricity which jolted through her from the contact. Fear didn’t swell in his features when she spat out those words; he looked to Wanda, impressed with her existence than his own.

“ _No,_ ” he murmured, “ _that_ _’s not true. You are more than that._ ” He squeezed ever-so-gently. “ _It_ _’s simply a matter of what you choose to do._ ”

“ _And you think I can do more with my abilities?_ ”

“ _Not more—anything._ ”

Hesitation fluttered in her chest. Instinct told her to skim the thoughts of those she questioned, just enough to dig past the surface for a thread of truth. Wanda didn’t pry into Vision’s mind. Not since she first found him in the Cradle. That wasn’t him any longer, but if Mjolnir didn’t question his worth, then neither would she.

But this? This Wanda refused to believe. She never amounted to anything worthwhile. The masses feared her and those who didn’t wished to capitalize on her abilities. That was Wanda Maximoff’s destiny.

A gift. More like a damned curse. Vision didn’t need to reassure her with sugar-coated lies. But he didn’t lie. She was certain he didn’t even know _how_ to.

Wanda knitted her brows together, closed her eyes, inhaled, and dove into his mind. A quick plunge. Nothing else. She didn’t need to delve far—the truth stood in plain sight of her telepathy, as inviting and splendid as the rest of him.

And when she looked back to him, Vision didn’t flinch. He knew, no doubt— surely he sensed her contemplation, let alone the telepathic extraction—yet he refused to comment on her brief distrust.

Unless he asked, she never glimpsed into his mind since then. His honesty and integrity spoke in his actions and words. It motivated Wanda to be better, to discard the brooding which weighed her down. Even in his absence.

Alone in a corner of the Starks’ residence, Wanda lost herself to speculation while idle chatter washed out into white noise. If Vision was right... no, he _was_ right... then that meant....

For the first time since returning to the world she hated, Wanda grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun peeked past a smattering of clouds. Birds flew overhead in the warm rays, unaware of the crowd gathering by the secluded cabin. Their songs were lost to the wind, as were the tears shed throughout the procession. No one there was a stranger to death; the dearly departed simply stretched his roots deep into the hearts of many. It was evident in the attendance number for the funeral, in the countless flowers piled high. All to pay respects to a brilliant man. His peers mourned and Wanda stood along the borders, not a tear marring her face.

She twirled her rings, arms loosely crossed as her eyes drifted. Part of her yielded to guilt for never making adequate effort to know Tony more than a forced acquaintance. Of all the people to create the man she loved, she didn’t envision the likes of Tony Stark humoring that notion. Now they were both gone—creator and creation. And all they shared in traits was sentience.

“ _I find myself thinking often,_ ” he once said.

Wanda had busied herself with eating the dessert he prepared for her, though kept her focus on him. “ _What_ _’s that?_ ”

“ _Humanity,_ ” Vision continued, “ _and the preconceived notion of normalcy._ ” He cast his gaze over his hands—human in shape and nothing else—and flexed his fingers. “ _I can_ _’t help but be jealous at times._ ”

“ _How so?_ ”

“ _Well, for one, I_ _’m curious to know what this trifle tastes like._ ”

Wanda smirked, carving through layers of pudding and sponge cake to scoop into her mouth. “ _A little dense. Could be sweeter, but it_ _’s a treat, so you’ve made my day._ ”

Watching him smile in return, though, proved to be more delicious than her trifle.

“ _I—_ ” She evaded his eyes and settled her spoon into its dish. “ _I think about that myself now and then._ ”

“ _About what?_ ”

“ _What it means to be human._ ”

Blood and flesh composed her body, but something else simmered in her soul. She couldn’t help but contemplate a path where she opted out of the experiments with her brother. It would have made helping Sokovia tedious, but it meant saving them from heartache and hatred. She longed for her twin; Pietro understood even before their genetic coding twisted.

When Wanda lifted her chin and found Vision opposite of her, still regarding her with mixed intrigue and concern, those worries quieted to a whisper.

“ _We_ _’re not so different, you and I,_ ” she had murmured, unsure if it was a blip in her thoughts or a bittersweet note on her lips.

“ _I suppose we share similar aesthetics._ ”

Wanda blinked, then broke out into giggles. “ _No, that_ _’s not what I meant, Vizh._ ”

“ _Hmm, perhaps not. You_ _’re more suited for scarlet hues than I am._ ”

She chewed her lower lip and looked away. “ _Do you not like the color red?_ ”

“ _No, that_ _’s… that’s not… I…._ ”

Wanda bit back a smile. His little stumbles when his tongue twisted like that… she enjoyed it more than his baking ventures. For all his moments crafting eloquent, logical words in stressful times, it was lost to him in the rare moment she questioned him. Specifically when it pertained to herself.

How interesting. It was a shame she couldn’t tell if he was blushing.

After a pause, Vision’s wavering eyes settled on her and his voice returned, albeit with a fragile fortitude. “ _I cannot say the colors suit me, but I like to believe it does for you._ ”

She should have asked him then. To run away with her and forget the Avengers and the world. But she was young and foolish and valued her freedom over sharing her heart with anyone. It simply landed her in another cell, one without him and his cooking and his voice and his handsome outfits in an attempt to fit in. To be human, or so she believed. When life drained from him days ago, she finally understood it was done for her.

It always had been.

Wanda winced and dropped her gaze. No, not days—years. Everyone reminded her of that in their oblivious silence while she grasped Vision’s fate. She wished she shared that fate, to finally _rest_. It was why she clung to death and was the last of her fallen allies to return. And no one sought her out. Not initially. Everyone had their loved ones to track down and confirm all was well. Wanda had no one.

The thought nauseated her days ago. Now it comforted her; the fewer eyes on her, the better.

Wanda watched the funeral, less like a hawk and more like a tiger—cautious despite her prowess overwhelming everyone present. Well, maybe not everyone. That Carol girl did a number on Thanos’ ship. Wanda was sure to thank her for the gesture with a knowing fist bump. Maybe in another life, another time, they could have bonded. Like everyone else present. Again the group mingled in the aftermath with quiet recollection and tear-filled promises of a brighter future. After a moment, once everyone settled into conversation, Wanda inched away and retreated to the lake.

The voices—both verbal and mental—didn’t reach her there. Only the wildlife and nature filled her: the song of distant birds, the lull of water lapping the shore, the occasional wind sifting through trees, and the crisp scent found only in the depths of the wilderness. Wanda settled by a tree and overlooked the water reaching to the distant forest lining the horizon. Quiet enough to focus her mind and handle the intricate fibers of her powers.

 _I never belonged in this world,_ she mused. No blood family welcomed her home and while the Avengers bonded with her in place of that lost connection, it never fully clicked. She tried, though. Despite their open arms, life in the Avengers wasn’t home. No matter what skills and abilities others acquired, none of them compared to Wanda. They failed to understand what she was, both human and not. Her fears and regrets and motives… how could any of them fathom what riddled her head? Those who did were dead.

She exhaled. A knowing smile cracked her lips. That wouldn’t be a concern much longer.

“Wanda?”

A chill tickled her spine. Years ago, she would have whipped around and flung psychic projectiles until whoever approached her was indistinguishable from a shish kabob. But the paranoia subsided and Wanda turned to regard the familiar voice as not an enemy, but a friend.

Wanda paused to guard herself against the overflowing melancholy cascading from both the mind and heart. She made ample preparations specifically for the funeral to deflect stray emotions and thoughts. Regardless of experience and fine-tuning her abilities, Wanda morphed into a sponge when vulnerable. She refused to absorb the crowd’s sadness until she no longer discerned her own feelings from theirs. Despite her precautions, one managed to break through the tight seams of her defenses. What little she gleaned from those broken thoughts, she didn’t blame him.

Tense muscles lining her body softened. “Hey, Clint.”

Her voice blended with solitude imbued in the encompassing nature, though didn’t establish its roots as well as the tree beside her. Even then, it surpassed the timbre in Clint’s tone, deprived of strength long before she returned to life. Rage did plenty to fuel a soul when happiness no longer made do, only to evaporate once the deed was done—a notion Wanda was beyond familiar with.

Clint gestured to her with his chin. “You, um… don’t mind if I intrude, do you?”

She gently shook her head, auburn hair escaping behind an ear to frame her face. “Not at all.”

A quick smile tugged his lips in thanks before reverting to a solemn line. Wanda pushed off the tree to meet him closer to the shore. He looked to the horizon, regarding their surroundings as she had.

“Didn’t expect so many people to show up,” he said.

Wanda lifted an eyebrow, more amused than curious. “No? What _did_ you expect?”

That squeezed a chuckle out of him. “Yeah, you’re right.” He paused. “Sorry, it’s just… still hard to process.”

“It’s death. Most people don’t know how to mourn.”

“That, too, but I meant the living part and not so much the death part.”

She inhaled sharply. Of course. He stayed while she and half of the universe faded away. He lived five, grueling years while she experienced seconds of solitude.

“Hopefully,” Wanda said, “it’s a welcomed change.”

“It is,” Clint added a beat after her, “trust me. It’ll take some getting used to, but… I like to think it was all worth it. Just needed to step away for a bit. It’s a lot of people. You know, in comparison to… yeah.”

Green eyes caught him bowing his head out of her peripheral view. “I know.”

He met her gaze briefly, nodded, and looked to the lake. So did she.

His surface thoughts quieted. His boiling emotions settled to a simmer. Wanda smiled softly, sadly.

“I’m sorry,” she said in time.

Clint didn’t answer immediately. “I am, too.” Another pause. “Bruce said he tried, but… she’s gone now.” He sighed, the sound more of a strained labor than a relief. “No body, no will, not a trace of those who raised her. She was used to that, though—not existing. It was one thing to live in the shadows, but another thing to—”

Whatever words he chose for his rant died. Clint pinched the bridge of his nose and lowered his shaking head.

“I wanted to do her some justice,” he muttered, “and not make her sacrifice out like it was no big deal. Shit, it doesn’t have to be some fancy funeral. A quick trip to her favorite bar and toast to her memories would make her smile, but no one’s even mentioned her. It’s like… it’s like she….”

Wanda inched closer. “Like she never existed to begin with?”

“Yeah,” Clint said after a breath.

Yet another missing face in the crowd of survivors. Natasha wasn’t the warmest of individuals, but she understood the importance of choosing one’s family when there was none left to claim. She was the big sister Wanda never had, both in the lectures founded on tough love and the laughter shared over late-night drinks and movie binges. Despite their differences in their last days together, Wanda regretted not valuing those moments with Natasha.

For all the power she balanced in her hands, nothing helped to convey ample wisdom and sympathy to fill the hollow hole in Clint’s heart. She held her tongue and watched him as he struggled to express what so few understood. At least in that, she _did_ understand. Far too much for her liking.

“I guess it’s not fair to make myself center of attention,” Clint continued. “We’ve _all_ lost someone to some extent. Still… when it’s someone like _that_ in those kinds of circumstances… how can you possibly say goodbye to them?

“We had been through a considerable amount. After so many jobs together, it became more than coworkers. More than family. I don’t… back then, I thought if we did anything, it would have complicated matters. Maybe put each other at risk. That doesn’t make it go away, though. I figured I’d forget and move on when I started my own family. And then stuff with her and Bruce, but….” A dry laugh trickled out. “When you love someone—truly love them—it never goes away, even when they do.”

Wanda wrapped an arm around herself, perched her opposite elbow on top, and tapped two fingers beside her mouth. “I’m sure she felt the same way about you.”

“That’s the hope, but I won’t ever know now. I can’t call her up and be all, ‘Hey, remember that time we were fighting each other to see who would be suicidal for the sake of the universe? If it had been me, would I have been really… the one you loved the most?’” Clint ran a tense hand through his hair. “It’s just gone now. Just like her”

She blinked. “You… _do_ know I jumped into most of your minds when we were still against each other, right? Hers included.”

Clint whipped around and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that wasn’t _exactly_ a great first impression.”

A tiny smirk lined her face. “The feeling’s mutual, but the point is if what I found sealed away in her mind continued to shine brighter than everything else….” She leaned in and bumped shoulders with Clint. “Then yes, I believe she was no different from you.”

His eyes twitched, searching for a lie in her tender stare. “Really?”

“Really.”

Releasing a breath, Clint looked away, though the tension in his body faded. He could relax now—they all could.

“I guess my only hope,” he said, sadness coloring his words, “is that she knows. That all of this worked out, that it wasn’t for nothing.”

Wanda almost gasped as his thoughts bled into her own. Memories that weren’t hers flashed before her like fragmented pictures. Both his and Natasha’s voices echoed in a place she didn’t recognize. The energy pulsing from the area, though… she knew that. Its lingering imprint was like the mind stone.

Though what burned into Wanda was a smile and reassuring murmur. All before she slipped away and welcomed death. She saw that visage before. Not in the woman Clint couldn’t stop thinking about, but the man she failed to protect.

They promised not to leave one another. They promised to protect each other. Wanda berated herself for denying those vows in favor of victory. She wanted him to live. It was possible, after all. They simply needed more time. But nothing stood in their favor. Borrowed time dissolved with every breath, holding off the enemy with one hand and struggling to comply with her lover with the other.

How could she kill him? After all they experienced together—and even more they wished to share side-by-side—she couldn’t end it. The experiments which resulted in her enhancements pierced her bones; the phantoms of that torture still laced into her until she fell short of breath. To hurt Vision… how could she say she loved him while submitting him to her wrath? All that came from her was destruction. No good ever followed in the wake.

“ _You can never hurt me,_ ” he had told her.

It would be alright—he promised. Endless sweet truths flowed from him, each meant for her. And then he faded into the crimson light with a smile.

Wanda tried to forget what happened after that.

With a trembling breath, she soothed Clint’s memories out from her mind. Wanda repaired her mental fortifications as best as possible and rubbed her forearm.

“She knows,” Wanda said. Her lips curled up; it wouldn’t be much longer now. “I know she does.”

“Another mind trick kind of thing?”

“No,” she said, facing Clint. “That one comes from experience.” A pause, then, “It’s not easy. Don’t think it ever will be. But when you find someone who would swear to die for you if it ensured your own safety—” A chill skittered across her skin. There was that faint echo of his. Nothing she could discern, but it lived in Wanda—in her head, in her arms, in her heart. “It doesn’t get more perfect than that.”

“Guess you got a point.” Clint peered past her, as if who he was looking for stood in the background the whole time. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything you’ve been through.” His eyes returned to Wanda. “I thought he was a bit weird, but who _wasn_ _’t_ in our group? Hell, I’m not one to talk. Still, I know he made you happy and that’s all the others and myself could ever ask for you.”

Her eyes glossed over. She blinked back the tears longing to fall. “You mean that?” Wanda asked, already knowing the truth.

Clint nodded with a small smile. “Always do, always will.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey.” He patted her shoulder. “You’ve come a long way, kid. That’s something to be proud of.” Clint paused. “He would be, too, I think.”

Wanda held her breath. There had been a time when she didn’t believe that.

When Steve broke the team out of the Raft, she barely registered the collar unlocking from her throat, let alone the door opening. Arms flopped to her sides like dead weights without the straitjacket restricting her. Steve said something and she blinked. Not long ago, she promised Pietro they would never be locked up against their own will again. They weren’t toys; they were _people_. But he died and so did she that day. She recalled her twin and their naive promise. She glanced at her allies, allowed to pace their cells without restraints. Of course they could. Only freaks were sedated and stripped of decency, let alone her powers. It was no different than telling a fish to breathe out of water.

The other strategized their next move and Wanda walked away. Despite Steve’s persistent persuasion, Wanda avoided eye contact and shook her head. No more fighting. She couldn’t do it. Self-loathing bubbled within, forcing her to curl up. If only she could disappear; she troubled the public enough by merely existing.

She remembered Steve steadying a hand on her shoulder and helping her to her feet. “ _If you don_ _’t want to do this anymore, I don’t blame you,_ ” he had murmured to her, “ _but you can_ _’t go back to how life used to be. We’re branded as criminals, Wanda. If you want to go free, you can’t take any chances. We’ll need to check in with each other, make sure nothing bad has happened._ ” He dipped in to catch her blank expression. “ _Can you do that?_ ”

What did it mean to be free anymore? Was Steve’s concept the same as Wanda’s? But she sensed his sincerity without digging through his head. So she agreed.

Hiding wasn’t odd; her years were spent either screaming in plain sight through televised revolts or lurking in shadows in hopes for the worst to abate. At least she chose to live like that. Steve offered her a wallet with suitable cash to buy a plane ticket and several months’ worth of rent. The rest was up to her.

She cleared her thoughts of Vision. That defeated the point of laying low, right? No need to paint targets on both of their backs when he wasn’t at fault. In between bus trips and walks in the rain, she basked in the public’s loose thoughts to ignore her own.

Wanda made it to New York City, a single cab ride away from JFK and a flight away from freedom, before she thought of him.

With herself as a beacon, she projected her feeble thoughts like radio frequencies in hopes to be heard. Few telepaths lived in the world, never mind the radius she persevered in. Upstate New York was a hike, but maybe he would hear her. Maybe he would come to see her one last time.

Or maybe he would tell her she belonged in the Raft. He was the reasonable one. Didn’t matter how emotions played into the mixed; it was never enough to trump logic.

Pernicious mulling intermixed with her signals. She hid in a stray alley and checked her burner phone for the time. Minutes crawled like days. Cars and pedestrians swarmed the colorful streets as she slumped to the cold, wet ground. Wanda folded into herself and stifled her weeping. Regret after regret cycled like a whip cracking against her heart.

She almost didn’t notice the movement shifting before her.

“ _Wanda?_ ”

A hitch in her throat and she snapped her attention up.

Vision found her. He heard her distress, left whatever responsibilities he had behind, and came for her. Even then, she skirted the edge of screaming, begging him to forget everything they ever shared. The sentiment vanished when he scooped her into his arms and clung tight. Her eyes fluttered wide open.

“ _You made it out,_ ” he had whispered into her hair.

She buried half her face into his shoulder, looping an arm around to latch onto him. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she trembled in his embrace.

“ _I never doubted you would._ ”

Wanda closed her eyes. “ _It wasn_ _’t my doing_.” Oh, how she hated how frail her voice was.

“ _But you persisted. You survived._ ”

She laughed. Not at him, but at herself. “ _That_ _’s all I’m ever good at—surviving_.”

Sobs filtered through her jaded amusement. A gentle hand smoothed her matted hair. She needed a hot meal, a hotter shower, and a mattress to sleep on for two weeks. Nothing about her current state was anything she wished to expose to Vision—not her physical disarray and certainly not her failing mental stability.

And yet he nuzzled into her face until she lifted her own, bumped noses, and tightened his hold. “ _You are more than that, Wanda._ ”

“ _No I_ _’m not._ ”

She swore she felt him smile against her. When did he get so close? “ _I_ _’m afraid you are. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you._ ”

Opening her eyes, she lost herself in those blue irises and the symmetrical rings marking his synthetic life. “ _What did you ever see in me?_ ”

“ _A woman who transcends all expectations. A fearless wildfire who refuses to conform. A complex mind with an even deeper heart. A sublime beauty, both inside and out._ ” He tilted his head. “ _I_ _’d continue, but the list is quite long and you might require to sit at some point._ ”

She didn’t need her powers to confirm his sincerity. Still, she failed to believe. “ _I_ _’m not proud of who I am._ ”

“ _That_ _’s a shame, because I am of you._ ”

“ _Why?_ ”

“ _Why not?_ ”

“ _I figured you_ _’d be disappointed in me… after what had happened._ ”

“ _Did you forget what I told you?_ ”

She hadn’t. He was sorry. So was she. For everything and more.

“ _My only disappointment,_ ” Vision continued, his gentle breath upon her lips, “ _is that I couldn_ _’t have stayed with you._ ”

Wanda scoffed. “ _Did Mr. Stark tell you to be a good boy and not leave? That I was a bad girl and thus a bad influence on you?_ ”

Tender hands cupped her cheeks. He eased into her and uttered one last whisper. “ _Mr. Stark has no say in this anymore._ ”

Whatever she longed to say, either in defense or surprise, was smothered by soft lips. A pleasant quiver thrummed in her body. No matter how many times she played out the scenario in her head, none of it compared to sharing a kiss with him now. All her insecurities, frustrations, and sadness dwindled into an abyss. None of it resonated between them in what little space remained, if any at all.

She shifted her weight, snaking her arm around his neck. Her mouth opened for his, soft motions quietly begging for more. A curious hand clawed at the sweater he was fond of. In return, he combed gentle fingers through her hair, cradling her head as he coaxed her mouth open with intermittent caresses from his tongue. Wanda was but a single, flickering flame, desperate for anything to kindle her. Every touch, every sound, all of it left her roaring like the wildfire he claimed she was.

And she thought she imagined it—those words in her head. He wasn’t a telepath, but picked up quickly on amplifying his thoughts for her to hear louder than spoken words. She tried not to rely on whispering into his head in reply; she was _trying_ to teach him human conventions which eluded him. Why start now?

It wasn’t until they broke that kiss, when she expressed her inability to return to either Steve or Tony. It wasn’t until Vision expressed his respect for her decision and offered to help in whatever way possible. It wasn’t until he peppered her tear-stained face with kisses in between promises of her safety.

Until then, it was a whisper. Then it rang until her ears burned.

_I love you._

Wanda released the memory with an exhale. All that remained was a smile. She patted Clint’s hand, paused, then tugged him into a hug. He reciprocated with open arms, squeezing her until she squeaked against him.

“Thank you for everything, too,” he murmured once they loosened their hold. “I figured… if anyone would know, who would _remotely_ get it, it would be you.”

“It’s… nice, in a way,” Wanda said. “Having someone to talk to.”

“We’ll have each other’s backs from here on out, though, so there’s that.”

Her smile faltered. Another time, she might have laughed. Now wasn’t that time, nor would there ever be another opportunity.

A voice called for them in the distance and thankfully grabbed Clint’s attention before he ever noticed. Happy mentioned ordering everyone cheeseburgers for dinner and was taking additional requests. Clint joked about how there weren’t enough burgers in a ten-mile radius to make Steve happy. Wanda almost quipped back, something about how Steve wouldn’t be around for it to matter, only to remember it was his thoughts which revealed his intentions when they brushed paths before the funeral. As much as Wanda wanted to volunteer herself with the role of returning the infinity stones—an easy escape when there was no one left for her in the present—what she briefly saw in his heart kept her silence. He wore his thoughts on his sleeve along with his emotions, regardless if he was aware of it. He deserved it, though.

Besides, she had other plans now.

“What about you?” Clint asked. “Any preference?”

Wanda hesitated a second, answering with a shrug. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

At least she saw Clint grin one last time. “Hey, Happy!” he called out. “Make that _two_ double bacon cheeseburgers!”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. Why was she not surprised?

“Come on.” Clint beckoned for her as he shuffled towards the now thinned out crowd. “Might as well get comfortable. Everyone’s probably worried about us disappearing.”

 _If only they knew,_ Wanda kept to herself. “You go on ahead,” she said instead. “I’ll catch up in a bit.”

A sweet smile convinced Clint. He nodded, sadness still tinging his eyes, though a fresh glow warmed them. Wanda watched as he left her side to join Happy and retreat to the distance where the others were specks and blurs. She waited for nature’s whispers to reclaim the area. Just the wind, a flourishing tree, and her thoughts.

Always her thoughts. Always that faint murmur she swore was him.

Her lips faltered into a subtle frown. She smoothed anxious hands along her thighs as she faced the lake. The sun gradually sank in the distance, brilliant rays washing her features. Each breath echoed in her ears. She licked her lips and cast her gaze downward. Maybe this wouldn’t work. Maybe she was foolish to attempt a feat so selfish.

Every thought that materialized throughout her life bombarded her. They festered within, daring to swallow her whole. She wasn’t worthy of joy. She was a monster. She brought only chaos and death. Whatever she wished for… it didn’t matter.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Hands turned until open palms blazed with her usual energy.

The thoughts faded. Toxic memories fizzled one by one. The rare moments of sheer joy radiated within Wanda. She thought of her brother, her favorite homemade dishes, her prized rings collected in her travels. Every childish dream, every bout of genuine laughter, every moment which gave her pause. She thought of a life spent without hating herself. She thought of that freedom Steve once mentioned.

She thought of Vision. She thought of home and saw only his face.

The erratic pulse of her energy refined into delicate threads, realigning into perfect symmetry with her body. The wind stopped. The songbirds quieted. Ripples along the lake reeled in reverse until the water reflected the skies without imperfections.

Inhale, exhale. She discarded the doubts and fears which weighed her down her entire life.

She wished for creation when all she had ever known was destruction.

Holding her breath, Wanda held her arms up and persisted through her abilities’ burn. Red energy consumed her; she was surreal flames eager to devour. One step and she fell forward. The lake didn’t rise to meet her. Nor did the solid earth. Nothing did. She fell within her mind as a brilliant scarlet radiance blinded her.

And when her fellow Avengers called her name and returned to the lake, she was already long gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Laughter echoed everywhere—pure, innocent laughter. She once experienced that as a child herself, before hell broke loose. Now it returned, unrestrained by the chaos she matured with.

Wanda opened her eyes. White light flooded the area, giving way to blurred blocks of color. Her sight focused and so did her surroundings.

Rustic buildings lined the clean streets. The setting sun cast the skies on fire with warm hues. A pair of giggling children brushed by her with their parents on their heels. Others moved around her, lost in phone calls or the company of a loved one. Cars rolled by in the distance against the hum of trams.

Wanda knitted her brows together amidst the stream of people. The cobblestone road was reminiscent of Edinburgh, but she was in a secluded forest seconds ago. She dropped her gaze and flexed her fingers. Had she done something wrong?

“There you are.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Fresh tears pooled in her wide eyes. It wasn’t in her head anymore; that familiar voice tickled her ears and begged her to turn around. Swallowing hard, she peeked past her shoulder and froze.

A cafe sat behind her. The rustic design was suited for a quaint town instead of the city, like the ones in the Adirondacks she wished to explore while staying in the Avengers Compound. Few people lounged in the outdoor seating area, but he did.

It reminded her of the first time. She hadn’t recognized him. He promised to visit once she settled in. Her new home, or so he said, but she insisted it wasn’t home unless he was there. Something as simple as a long weekend together put both at risk, though. As always, he assured her that wasn’t the case.

His voice eased into her head upon arrival—a forgotten reminder of the rare times they bonded over shared thoughts. Wanda exited the building with a perplexed look. He projected his thoughts and reached her idle telepathy, thus he _had_ to be close and yet was nowhere to be found. Why the hell was an android parading in a purple body so difficult to pinpoint?

“ _Right here,_ ” was all he said.

It was the eyes she noticed first. Missing the distinct rings which marked him as non-human, but still the same blue. Wanda did well to memorize his gaze upon her after all their time together. Her lips parted as she drank in the rest of him: the smooth, pale skin, the blond hair, the fitted suit. All human—perfectly human. Had she walked by him on the streets, she doubted she would have recognized him.

She inched towards him and he never flinched. Curious hands lifted, only to retract. “ _Vizh?_ ”

He offered a subtle nod. “ _Is it alright?_ ” He evaded her gaze as scarlet warmed his cheeks. So, he _did_ blush. “ _It_ _’s not too much, is it?_ ”

“ _It_ _’s_ ….” Words failed her. After growing accustomed—attracted, even—to his usual appearance, she never imagined him any way _but_ that.

“ _If you don_ _’t like it, I can change. I—_ ” He drew in a visible breath and licked his lips. “ _I wanted you to like it. If it upsets you, then let me know._ ”

 That was it. He did this—all of this—for her, to ensure their safety. He didn’t have to, but he did. Steve was out there fighting the good fight, Tony was probably screaming at everyone over how they lost a six-foot-something android, and all Vision cared about was if she liked his appearance.

Wanda raised her hands once more, resting one on his shoulder and the other on his cheek. The touch alone returned his gaze to her. He still loomed above—damn being small—and those lips continued to tempt her, no matter the color.

“ _How could I be upset with you?_ ” she murmured. “ _And honestly? I_ _’m impressed you pulled_ this _off without asking a hundred questions about my type._ ”

Though now that she thought about it, there were times when boredom consumed her while cooped up in the Avengers Compound. Between missions, Wanda stared at mind-numbing television programs and flipped through countless magazines with mild interest. She lingered on ads with lean, blond models and ignored slabs of muscle. Nothing worth remembering either way, though enough to warrant someone else’s attention when she forgot she wasn’t alone.

His lips twitched into a brief smile. “ _It was an educated guess._ ”

And there he was, sitting at an empty table in a similar suit—a white button-down with a red tie matched against a gunmetal waistcoat, blazer, and pants— and removing sunglasses to meet her gaze. Even from the sweep distance, light illuminated his blue irises.

It was him. He was alive.

“I knew you could do it.” Vision settled the sunglasses on the table before rising to his feet. “You always had it in you.”

Tears blurred the vicinity, but it didn’t hinder her from marching forward. He strolled towards her, phasing through the metal fence along the cafe’s perimeter. Wanda broke out into weak laughter; some habits never changed. Her steps quickened as the distance between them shrank. Once she discerned the details in his soft smile and kind gaze, Wanda launched herself into his arms, every limb coiled around him, and plunged in for a hard kiss.

He was real. The slight moan on his lips, the warmth of his embrace, the curl of his fingers into her trembling body, everything.  She skimmed fingers along his neck, inhaled that crisp scent soaked in his skin, and opened her mouth to better taste him. All to confirm her hopes and smother her doubts.

They gently broke the kiss, lips ghosting one another as Wanda touched to the ground. Her hands refused to pry away, sliding down his chest.

“This,” she said, the fragile words breaking in her throat, “isn’t a dream, right?”

His smile gradually grew. “If it is, I hope we never wake up.”

Laughter intermixed with sobs. Wanda buried her face in his chest, clawing his shirt and daring to rip through the fabric. “You died. I watched you just…. I know you asked me to do it, but I wasn’t strong enough to seal your fate. Thanos, he—”

“Wanda.” His gentle words seeped through her hair and graced her ears. “It’s alright.”

She shook her head and choked on her tears. “You deserved to live. I don’t care what’s in the best interest for the universe; I wanted you to be selfish for one damn second of your life. I didn’t want anything to take you away from me. We… we made a promise. We weren’t going to leave each other. We were going to stay and once everything was over, then maybe… maybe—” She hiccupped as Vision lifted her chin. Tears cascaded down her burning face. “I’m sorry. All my life it’s been one fuck up after the other—”

“You’re not—”

“Let me finish!”

She pounded a loose fist into his chest. Pedestrians wove by without a care to their reunion. The loose, surface thoughts dulled to a white ambiance. All Wanda fixated on was Vision.

“You’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me,” Wanda sputtered out, sniffling every other second. “You cared when no one else did. You looked at me and never saw a monster.” Vision leaned in, kissed her face, and flicked away stray tears. She latched onto the hands cupping her cheeks. “I never deserved your attention, but you gave it to me willingly. You showed me what it was like to be happy again, to value life for a change of pace. How the hell was I to wake up every morning without that?”

He rested his forehead against hers. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you like this.”

“I know.” Her voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “But please… _please_ don’t put me through that again. I don’t… I _can_ _’t_ live without you, Vizh.” Wanda spat out a chuckle. “That’s so pathetic, hearing that out loud.”

“It’s not.”

“Everyone lost somebody, but it didn’t matter. They undid Thanos’ work. It was fixed.” She sniffled. “But not you.”

He closed his eyes briefly to nuzzle into her face until she cracked a smile. “It’s okay, Wanda.”

“What happened wasn’t—”

“Neither of us can change the past, but our future is carved by our own intentions. And now? Yes, I believe all is well now. I might not predict what this world holds for us, but I promise mine will always include you.”

Her breaths slowed and the rivers lining her face dried. “This... this is real, right?” She pawed his face for good measure. “Whatever this is, now?”

Vision covered her hands with his own. “It is, all thanks to you.”

“But how? I don’t even understand.”

“Don’t you remember what I told you? Your powers... you’re able to manipulate molecular polarity, allowing you to alter reality. All this time... you convinced yourself the sole purpose of your abilities was destruction.” He kissed her palm, humming lightly as she caressed his face. “I’m glad you realized you were more competent than you gave yourself credit for.”

So it wasn’t just a stab in the dark; it was the truth.

“And everyone else?” A hint of guilt fluttered in her chest. “What happened to them?”

“I’m not sure.” Vision straightened his posture, though kept Wanda close in a loose embrace. “A mirrored world, perhaps? I cannot say how close this place mimics the timeline we originated from, but it is the universe we are used to, yet also not. The same house can undergo endless designs depending on the owner, but its foundations stay the same.” He reassured her with a squeeze. “I believe it’s safe to say that whatever you wished for? That’s their reality, then. At least here.”

Wanda paused, then smiled. The remnants of her conversation with Clint left her hoping one outcome for him before she bowed out of that world. Hopefully he was as happy as she was now.

Then she raised an eyebrow. “And how do _you_ know all of this?”

Vision tilted his head. “So you truly didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“I was trying to reach out and inform you that I was alright, but....” He looked elsewhere and scowled. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Vizh, what are—” It finally dawned on her. Wide eyes regarded him with nothing but awe. “It was you. I kept hearing you, or at least I thought it was you. I was beginning to think I had grown delusional or unable to move on, but it really _was_ you. Even....” She stepped into him, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Even when I vanished, you were still there. But how?”

After a beat, he returned his attention to Wanda and planted a tender kiss between her brows. “The same force made us who we are today. The moment the mind stone was removed, I thought that would be it... but I didn’t expect instinct to latch onto the nearest power source.”

She hitched her breath. “Me.”

He nodded against her. “I told you that you could never hurt me.”

New tears rolled off her chin. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long.”

“Tucked in that beautiful mind of yours?” He swept a hand beneath her chin to lift her face. “Hardly a wait at all.”

Soft lips eased into hers. Wanda closed her eyes, all tension releasing, both physically and mentally. Before she surfaced in this new world, she purged the negativity gnawing at her nerves and focused on what made her smile—she thought of home. Despite her doubts, her wish came to fruition. And so long as he stayed beside her, no one could deny Wanda this simple happiness.

“Why don’t we,” Vision murmured along her lips, “see what this new world you created has to offer.”

Confusion lined her face until Vision led her back to the cafe. Well, more like he passed through the gate as if it wasn’t there and she floated over it with her powers. She mentally cursed her carelessness—she knew better than to weave her powers in plain sight. Then he took her hand and guided her to the ground and her worries dissipated.

She sat in the metal lattice chair he pulled out for her, smiling when he chose to sit beside her instead of across. Wanda scooted closer and laced her fingers between his. Black manicured nails drew idle shapes into his pale skin. She rested her temple along his shoulder and marveled at this newfound reality.

As if on cue, a server strolled out to take drink orders. Wanda sat speechlessly; she never ordered at a cafe before. Her family couldn’t afford frivolous luxuries, or so her mother claimed them to be. The coffee station at the Compound was… um… a _thing_. Of the few Starbucks runs the group made, Wanda froze when all attention settled on her for an order. How could she ask for something that was triple the amount of everyone else’s drink? She was already a handful. No need to exacerbate the problem. Even when laying low, she hoarded her money and refused to survey an establishment more than once. Better to be safe than blissfully ignorant. Why waste money on temporary treats when she could brew simple teas in private?

Though the times Vision attempted to make her lattes during their residency at the Avengers Compound left Wanda blushing. Instant coffee could only be so good before it turned into sugary coffee milk, but his efforts didn’t go unnoticed.

And he nudged her, jostling the memories free to anchor her in the present moment. “And what would the lady like?”

“I-I don’t know what to get.”

He kissed her forehead. “Whatever you want.”

What she told the server couldn’t possibly exist, nor was she certain her order was in English _or_ Sokovian. She thought she saw something about secret menus online during a week-long internet binge upon arriving in America and thus the Avengers Compound. At least Tony’s insistence on top-notch connection benefited her. Oh, her parents were rolling in their graves at the idea—so unnecessary, so _American_. Too bad. They weren’t present to stop her from bad life decisions. And if a drink with enough calories to supposedly fuel her for the day was what it took to learn to finally indulge, then so be it.

Though when the server returned to slide that bowl-like mug topped with a mountain of fresh whipped cream and multiple flavored drizzles in front of her, she almost fell out of her seat.

“That’s….” She blinked, unsure of which angle to attack it from. Hell, a _spoon_ accompanied the damn thing. “Yeah, that’s more than I expected.”

“Do you need help—”

“What?! No!” Wanda shielded her drink with an arm and whisked it away from Vision. “It’s mine!”

Stifled laughter rumbled through him. “Then I hope you enjoy it.”

She did. Whether it was the rich, hot drink she managed to pour in her mouth or the sunset reflecting off buildings to bathe the area in deep orange hues, Wanda savored every moment. In between sips, she recounted recent events for Vision and their eventual victory. It still haunted her—how days passed for her while others stood by for years. As for Vision, his grasp of time in that limbo teetered between seconds and an eternity. Neither of them needed to wait anymore. For anything. Wanda reached out and skimmed fingertips along his arm to remind herself of the reality she created—the one where they both lived peacefully together.

Her attention strayed from him several times. People strolled the streets without humoring either of them, though in passing they captured Wanda’s attention. Several children lifted off the ground with ease and chased each other mid-air with their parents tugging them back down. A woman juggled a phone call in one hand, a purse in the other, and dug out keys with seemingly an invisible set of hands.

“Something the matter?” Vision asked when she fell silent and her face contorted.

“The people here,” she drew out and blinked, as if mirages teased her. “They’re not… normal.”

Looking over his shoulder to follow her line of sight—a man lighting his cigarette with the tips of his fingers—Vision glanced back with a knowing smile. “I suppose that depends on what your definition of normal is.”

“What do you mean?”

“It always upset you that the world viewed you as someone dangerous, someone who wasn’t welcomed amongst other humans. You told me that at great lengths. Even if your efforts touched the world and people changed for the better, you wouldn’t have lived to see the day when that change was fully realized. I don’t blame you for wanting someplace where you wouldn’t be judged.” He traced the edge of her hand clutching her mug until she opened it to him and allowed those fingers to dance in her palm. “Someplace where for once, _you_ could be normal.”

Wanda squinted. “You think that’s why this world is like this?”

“Perhaps. It wouldn’t surprise me.” He paused. “Does that make you happy?”

After a breath, she said, “Yeah. I think so.” A smile crept to life across her features. Who would have thought that wanting to fit in and no longer having to hide would result in this?

“Are you finished?”

The question perked up Wanda as she spotted Vision staring at her mug. A dollop of melted whipped cream sagged at the bottom in a puddle of chocolate and raspberry sauce.

Snapping her hand back, she swept a defensive arm across her mug. “No.”

“There’s barely any left.”

“And _you_ can’t taste anything, so why bother?”

“Maybe when you were wishing for this world, you decided to bestow me the pleasure of finally doing so.”

She scrunched up her nose. “I think I would have remembered an explicit addition like that.”

“Hmm… I’ve always been curious, though.”

“ _Curious_?”

“Mr. Stark used to order complex drinks when the team used to compile lists for coffee runs.”

“Yeah and I’m pretty sure he got them for Pepper.”

“Trust me—none of them ever reached Ms. Potts.”

Wanda snorted. Why was she not surprised? The mental image of Tony sipping on pumpkin spice lattes with extra whipped cream and an assortment of drizzles in a dark corner of the facility was going to amuse her for quite a while.

A sly hand crept into view. Wanda blocked her mug again and leaned away. “It’s _mine_.”

“So… are you going to—”

“Mmhmm!” With the mug in her clutches, she chugged the sugary mixture. Cream splattered her nose, lips, and cheeks. With every drop consumed, the mug parted from her lips and Wanda sighed, both satisfied and exhausted.

Vision bit back a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so possessive over a material object.”

“Well.” She licked her lips clean to the best of her ability. “It’s not like I ever had the opportunity to treat myself like this and now that I’m here… might as well make the most of it.” Wanda tilted her head. “You can get one of your own, you know. See if you _actually_ can consume things like a human.”

“A taste was all I wanted. See what the fuss was about. Your order was… quite a mouthful.”

“It was a delicious mouthful.” Wanda wiped whatever slicked her cheeks. The sticky residue was less than desirable, though worth the effort. “I liked it.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Catching the last bit of cream on her nose, Wanda sucked it clean from her finger. She didn’t notice Vision leaning in. She didn’t notice the hand resting on her thigh. The tongue carefully flicking out to clean the smudge of cream at the corner of her mouth? She noticed that.

“I quite like that myself,” he purred into her blushing cheeks.

When was the last time her heart skipped the way it did without fear eliciting each pulse? Wanda poked out her tongue to moisten her lips and turned into him. Both lingered, brushing one another with parted mouths and nothing else. He nuzzled further into Wanda, trailing kisses along her face until he settled upon a sensitive patch of skin intersecting with her jaw, neck, and earlobe.

She loved _that_ more than her drink.

“Perhaps we should head home,” he suggested, soft words concealing a more visceral nature, if his actions were to be judged on his true intentions.

Wanda leaned into him, chewed her lip, and nodded. “I thought you’d never ask.”


	4. Chapter 4

The city buzzed with rolling cars and oblivious people. Streetlights flickered on gradually the deeper the sun slipped behind the buildings. A fiery glow still warmed the skies, outlined with blues and purples promising the night. It fell to a numb whisper for Wanda; nothing paralleled the sensation burrowing in her core.

As for the man who rekindled that forgotten hearth, he lingered against her, even with their new destination agreed upon. Wherever home was, Wanda hoped it at least had a locked door. Though with Vision teasing her with slight touches and hushed admiration, the table at the cafe appeared as promising as a bed.

Their server arrived to collect her empty mug, snapping Wanda free from her reverie. She drew in a breath and smoothed hands over her lap while Vision rose from his seat.  Before joining him, Wanda paused. The server cleaned abandoned tables, a collection of mugs floating beside her. She passed them, smiled, and wished them a pleasant evening.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” she said.

Vision left cash on the table before returning his attention to her. “To what?”

She tapped her fingers beside her lip. “Others like me, completely unafraid of who they are.”

“I imagined you’d be happy about that. There’s something to be said about kinship.”

“You’re not wrong.” Her lips twitched and she brought her gaze to him. “Just need to undo some old habits.”

“Such as?”

She shrugged. “Nothing to fuss about right this second.” Especially when she was too busy thinking of his lips on that spot that made her shiver and coo.

At least he respected her response, nodding as he joined her side to exit the cafe. “If there’s anything I can do to help—”

_Oh trust me, there_ _’s plenty I’ll be asking of you once we’re behind closed doors._

“—please know I’m right here.” Vision matched her pace while merging into the congested street and laid an open hand on her lower back. “You’ve already done so much for me without question. I—” She never tired of watching him pause to contemplate the right words. The evasive gaze, the parted lips, the deep breaths… what wasn’t to love? “I wish for nothing more than to reciprocate the sentiment.”

“I hope that doesn’t involve buying me complicated drinks daily,” Wanda teased. “At this rate, I’m not going to be a cheap date.”

He blinked. “Should I have not paid for that or—”

“Vizh.” She smiled and butted her head against his shoulder. “It’s a joke.”

“Oh.” He looked elsewhere, as if reevaluating their exchange. “Right, of course.” A beat, then, “Though if it would make you happy, it would be the least I could do for you.”

“You don’t need to buy me things. You know that.”

“True. I suppose no material object can be on par with avenging my death and creating a universe where we can exist together. It doesn’t solve the problem of wishing to express my gratitude.”

She leaned into him. “Just be with me. That’s enough repayment.”

His hand snaked around her waist to pin her to his side. “The thought of straying from you—” He kissed her temple. “—has never crossed my mind.”

Yet another aspect in this mirrored world she had to adjust to. No more hiding in a meager apartment, waiting for the day when Vision could sneak out of the Avengers Compound to visit her. No more double-checking trackers on either of them to ensure their safety. No more catching up in a long weekend after months of silence and separation. No more borrowed time or tear-filled goodbyes or lonely, touch-starved nights. Now they could exist without apprehension. It was simply a question of where to begin.

Sunlight faded and cool hues dominated the skies, but it was the occasional pitter-patter against her cheeks which brought Wanda’s gaze skyward. Grey clouds swallowed what warmth lingered at dusk and brought with it rain. Umbrellas unfurled in the sea of people. Some ducked into nearby establishments to evade the weather, but Wanda pressed on. A little rain wasn’t going to delay their travel.

The crowds thinned out and gentle drops escalated into a relentless downpour within a minute. She gasped and ducked her head in hopes to stay partially dry.

“I should have wished for permanent sunny days,” she grumbled, raising her voice to pierce the storm’s overwhelming ambiance.

Her casual stroll broke into long, rapid strides. Vision kept up while they navigated the streets. Puddles reflected vibrant lights in the waking, urban nightlife, fracturing with each person marching by. A brisk wind shot through Wanda and froze her to the bone. Surely they didn’t have that much further to walk. She simultaneously knew the route and didn’t; none of the surroundings matched her memories of Edinburgh, but her heart tugged her along, decisive and ardent.

After three blocks of treading storm-swept streets, Wanda caught sight of another umbrella-less individual. Except they fashioned a shield above their head with whatever powers they possessed to block the rain. Again Wanda groaned and slowed her steps.

“Of course,” she said. Red light glowed in her palms as she wove the energy together to create a barrier.

Vision glanced at the red, pulsing energy hovering above. “At least it works.”

“Yeah.” Wanda wrapped one arm around her form and held the other up to maintain her creation. “I keep forgetting we’re not—” Another chill robbed Wanda of her voice, unable to ignore the cold biting through her soaked clothes. “Well, where we’re used to second-guessing our own actions.”

Stepping in close, Vision wrapped an arm around Wanda and rubbed her side to keep warm. “Not like the last time we were caught in the rain.”

The reminder revived her smile. “No, I guess it’s not.”

It was during his first visit. The sight of him lifted whatever depressive haze Wanda wallowed in and spurred her to explore anything beyond her living quarters. Hand-in-hand, they wove in and out of shops and streets well past sunset. The skies opened and offered sheets of rain, but Wanda ran with Vision and laughed. They found reprieve in an alcove, somewhere nestled in a meandering side street. Wanda shivered, clothing stuck to her skin. Water dripped from her chin and hair. At the rate the storm continued to gain momentum, there was no chance of them escaping untouched.

She looked to Vision, inches apart in the cramped space. At least she wouldn’t be alone while waiting out the rain.

But her brow furrowed and she brought a hand to his shoulder; the fabric was dry.

“ _Something the matter?_ ” he had asked her.

“ _How did you_ _…?”_

Upon catching where her concerned gaze fell, Vision held his hand out to the rain. His hand flickered with each shift of density before the droplets attempted to come into contact.

Unease mixed with amusement as she jerked his hand out of the rain. “ _You should be careful with that,_ ” she had told him.

He focused on their interlinked hands. “ _I don_ _’t believe I’ve ever been stuck outside in a rainstorm._ ”

“ _Consider it a learning experience._ ”

“ _What do we do now?_ ”

Wanda shrugged. “ _Wait until it stops._ ”

“ _That_ _… could be awhile._ ”

“ _Maybe. I didn_ _’t bother to check the weather tonight. Or in the past month._ ” She sighed. “ _I can count on one hand the times I_ _’ve left my apartment. Been trying to keep a low profile._ ”

“ _You_ _’re shivering, though._ ”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “ _That_ _’s what happens when rain doesn’t phase through your body._ ”

Vision looked away, perhaps piecing this newfound information together, then removed the blazer he wore to wrap around her. “ _Will this help?_ ”

It was at least two sizes too big on Wanda, but his residual warmth lingered. She burrowed into it and inhaled his scent mixed in the fabric. A slight sigh escaped her as she melted further.

“ _Yes,_ ” Wanda eventually said, “ _it will. Thank you._ ”

It wasn’t just the act of kindness which continued to echo within her in the present moment. Part of Wanda longed to drag Vision into a tiny nook of the city if it meant being close to him. Not only to keep each other warm, either. His arm clutching her waist and securing her against him scattered ideas in her head, none of which were meant for a public audience. Despite the abrupt cold, a heat flashed beneath her skin and bestowed her a new reason to quiver. If they didn’t reach this supposed home in the next minute, a damn alcove would work just fine for their needs.

Around one last corner and Wanda found it. The familiar structure resembled the tenement she resided in during her previous stay in Edinburgh.

“Think this is it,” Wanda said as they approached the building.

“Well,” Vision drew out, simultaneously examining the structure and opening the front door for her, “it does look like something you would pick.”

She dismissed her energy and darted inside; her makeshift umbrella worked wonders in a pinch, after all. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“I trust both your judgment and taste. Still, I’m curious to see what you chose for us.”

Wanda chuckled. “You make it sound like I wrote a grocery list of my preferences when I made this reality.”

“Not exactly.” He walked with her to the elevator. “Sometimes the smallest desires flourish without being fully realized.”

Pressing the button, she scanned the interior. Nothing sleek and exorbitant, though also not outdated and frugal. Well-maintained, yet lived in.

“I’m hoping you’re right,” she said.

The elevator chimed and opened. Wanda entered with Vision behind her. She propped herself against the wall with a sigh as he selected a floor out of the many options. No use in questioning how he knew. It was the same reason why she headed to this building—instinct.

Lights shifted above, indicating individual floors they crawled by. The persisting storm thrummed in the tenement’s foundations. Now out of the rain, soaked layers of fabric clung to her form, prickling Wanda with the slightest of movements on her behalf. She smoothed a hand over her attire, an assortment of her favorite pieces: dark, worn jeans from her revolutionary days; a loose, black shirt now skintight and hugging her curves; matching black boots persisting through years of wear and tear; that rich, red coat of hers she prized the most. Water penetrated every piece. The cold settled in and nipped her skin. She couldn’t wait to tear it off and warm up.

The thought brought a chill through Wanda—a welcomed one. Swallowing hard, she glanced to Vision, patient as ever, yet surprisingly quiet. And surprisingly drenched. His white button-down turned translucent, puckering in uneven patches. She missed him shrugging off his blazer, now draped on his arm, along with loosening his tie and popping the top two buttons free. Perhaps it was when she inspected the main lobby or as the floor numbers blinked by. Wanda scanned him and stopped at his already fitted dress pants clinging to him.

Hopefully he would entertain her with stripping those off instead dismissing it from reality.

A finger brushed her knuckles. Wanda held her breath and tilted her head up. Their eyes locked. His fingers eased into hers. She released a shaky breath and licked her lips.

The elevator chimed again and slowed to a halt. The doors crept open. Wanda almost tore them apart, thanks to her impatience, but thought against it. Vision nodded towards the opening, like he always did, and she walked ahead.

Her heart pounded as she strolled by identical doors. Numbers gilded in gold marked the walls, illuminated with tiny, dim lights above them. It wasn’t until she reached the end of the hallway that Wanda settled on the one she decided would be their place. She never bothered digging for a key in her waterlogged pockets; the doorknob turned in her hand and gave way to a dry, private haven.

Darkness shrouded the interior, though nothing cloaked the high ceilings of the loft apartment. Rain cascaded down windows stretched the entire length of the wall. The faint, orange glow of streetlights and neighboring buildings rippled in the storm. Only the rain and her heartbeat lived in her ears.

Another time, she could explore the place. Maybe come morning. If she ever left the bed.

The door clicked shut behind her. One last breath and she closed her eyes. Uncertainty gave Wanda pause. _Don_ _’t let this be a dream,_ she kept to herself. _Please_ _… and even if it is, don’t let me wake up._ Green eyes opened to find the same silhouettes and the same storm raging outside.

_This is real,_ she told herself, skimming fingertips down the front of her coat. _This is real,_ she thought as she loosened each button. The front sighed open and Wanda rolled her shoulders to ease the stubborn item off. _This is_ —

The coat never made it past her shoulders. Footsteps gingerly inched towards her. Curious hands peeled off her coat and revealed a disheveled shirt. Lips ghosted her neck and the patch of flesh revealed from the wide neckline. Wanda’s eyes fell shut as she leaned back into a sturdy, yet equally soaked body, tilting her head to expose more of herself to his decadent lips.

She sucked in breaths to steady herself and failed. Her coat pooled to her feet, tender kisses teased her shivering skin, and patience wore her nerves threadbare. Those hands traveled down her sides to trace the hem of her shirt. She gasped gently when they curled beneath to stroke her stomach.

“Vizh,” she cooed, his pet name a flutter past ajar lips.

He paused against her neck and stilled his hands. “Mmm?”

It tempted her to scream. Almost. “I missed this.”

“I’ve barely touched you.”

A faint chuckle left her smiling. “I know.”

Turning into him, Wanda glided her hands up his torso to tangle in his tie. A slight tug and he was level with her. She caught his mouth with her own before he ever protested.

Hands drifted further up her shirt, teasing smooth skin. That tie unraveled in her hands and dangled undone around his neck; no powers necessary to complete the ploy. Same with opening his waistcoat and shirt, button by button. She parted her mouth and moaned upon finding his tongue eagerly accepting her. She memorized his fingers outlining whatever contraption she wore underneath. They stepped into one another, chilled bodies yearning for warmth sinking into each other. Wanda hitched her breath. Lascivious heat swelled between her legs as their hips met. A subtle touch was enough to remind her of the influence she had over him. It didn’t stop her, however, from restraining her hips rocking into him.

One hand darted down to find his belt. Vision swept Wanda off her feet and she protested with a squeak. She mentally cursed her rash decision.

“Why don’t we make ourselves comfortable?” he murmured into her neck while walking… somewhere.

She snorted despite her intentions. “Is _that_ what we’re calling it?”

“That… _is_ what I called it?”

Then she laughed and kissed his cheek. “Then yes, I’d love to get comfortable.”

Wherever he took her, there were stairs involved. Stifling her whimpers, she danced fingers along his neck until Vision settled her on the edge of what had to be a mattress.

He bent at the hip and bumped noses. “Will this work?”

Red energy brightened between them. A flick of her wrist and Wanda flung them around to swap places. Vision blinked, visually enthralled by the stunt. Before he parted his lips, Wanda straddled his lap and sank into him.

“This will do,” Wanda purred and sealed it with a kiss. She swore he smirked against her lips.

A renewed hunger powered each kiss, each moan, each motion flowing with one another. Wanda broke away once to assist Vision with removing her top to discard elsewhere. His tie, waistcoat, and shirt followed, flickering out of existence instead of joining the sodden fabric on the floor. He strayed from her lips to trail along her clavicle. Shallow breaths joined her eager heartbeats. She peered down and blushed upon recognizing the scarlet satin lingerie she donned under her attire—the same piece she wore during his second visit.

There had been no expectations their first time; Wanda was content with simply breathing next to Vision, let alone share an intimate moment. As for his next trip, she aspired to impress him. He kept saying how red suited her. Might as well take advantage of it. Even now.

She loved the way his lips meandered. She loved the way his fingers unclasped and removed the simple, yet vibrant material blocking them. She loved the way he licked and nibbled and caressed. Moans swelled in the room. Impatient hips rolled into him—a not-so-subtle suggestion of what else she wanted. Melting in his hands and mouth alike, all she needed was his attention directed elsewhere. Only he could satiate that fire he ignited inside of her.

The plush mattress met her back and Wanda didn’t bother to ask how. She turned her head into a pillow as passionate kisses danced down her sternum and abdomen.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” she breathed out.

A deep moan rolled through him and vibrated through her body. “So are you.”

Soaked denim clutched her thighs, outlining every curve, and proved to be more of a headache to remove than the rest of her attire. Wanda wiggled her hips to assist him. Vision never ripped her jeans off; he peeled them back as if they were a part of her. She squirmed and whimpered. That hunger hollowed her stomach until she couldn’t fathom waiting another second.

“You alright?” he whispered into her thigh.

Why did he have to stop now? “I feel like I’m on fire,” Wanda mewled.

“Is that a good thing?”

She heaved out a sigh, unable to smother her whines. “Yes and no.”

“No?”

Warm breath tickled her inner thigh. She gasped and tossed her head. That alone turned her on.

“I _really_ need you to stop talking,” Wanda groaned, managing to kick off one of her boots in anticipation of him finally stripping her, “and keep going.”

A low chuckle left his lips. Seconds later, he resumed the crawl down her leg to remove her other boot. And her jeans, too. Wanda lounged on a bed of pillows and thick comforters, clad in a pair of scarlet panties, equally as wet as her clothes on the floor.

Tearing her sights from the ceiling, she eyed Vision slinking up the bed, kissing her bare legs. A fierce quiver eased her legs apart before he reached her thighs. He lingered there and kissed soft skin no different from her lips. Hands ghosted her until a perpetual tremble resided in her core. The rain dulled to a distant tap as her pulse raced. Whimpers teased her lips open. No amount of swaying her hips enticed Vision to hurry; he savored Wanda and as much as it tortured her, she didn’t want it any other way.

He hooked his fingers around the edges and tugged the pesky fabric away. Wanda smirked at the progress, only to have it shattered with an abrupt gasp as keen lips engulfed her.

Legs parted further. Delicious chills skittered along her spine, almost daring to choke her. The slight smile cemented into her features was thanks to a certain pair of lips and fingers moving against her better than she mustered alone. Consistent motions lapped her swollen clit, the broadside of his tongue dragging over her with a pronounced flick towards the end. Fingertips teased the length of her legs, the touch coaxing her to rock into his mouth. He paused for seconds to catch his breath, each exhale tantalizing her. Wanda clutched a pillow and raked her other hand through his hair—a plea to proceed. He was always a quick learner, always intrigued with what made her gasp, what made her tremble, what inevitably made her scream.

Damn it, she _wanted_ to scream. Days separated them from when they last lounged in bed and tired one another out. She already forgot those days were in fact years, just as she forgot all that plagued her heart and burned her eyes. Nothing but elation fluttered inside of Wanda. No matter how long he took, stroking and sucking until she produced a new sound, it was worth the wait. He always was.

She teetered on a fine line between insatiable lust and utter bliss. A few more strokes would do it. Biting her lower lip, she held her breath and braced for the intensity. It never came, though. Her brows twisted together. She fluttered her eyes wide open and discovered Vision looming above.

“I should thank you,” he whispered.

Wanda tried not to glare at him. “I should smack you.”

Vision chuckled. “So, you really _did_ humor me.”

“With _what_?”

“Allowing me the opportunity to finally taste.”

Whatever questions she had were smothered with a hard kiss. Moans squeezed past their tight lips. An eager tongue met hers and Wanda blushed as she tasted herself.

_You enjoy yourself?_ Wanda mused, opening her mind to him.

A lewd moan rolled in her head. _Quite a lot. Perhaps too much._

_Maybe you should have finished the job._

Vision chuckled through the kiss, breathless and yearning. _I was trying to pace us._

She blushed at the reminder. Vibranium didn’t coat her tissues, but the promise of anything but a short night excited Wanda.

The brush of scratchy fabric over her thigh, however, left her grumbling.

_I told you,_ she said, wiggling a daft hand between them to tend to the nuisance that was his belt, _you are wearing too much_.

Polite laughter surfaced on his lips. _I suppose if there was less, it would be better, but I can_ _’t help but admire your determination._

Wanda single-handedly loosened the buckle and tugged it free. _I_ _’d be careful if I were you. I might ruin your classy pants._

_I can fix them._

_Well, you_ _’re no fun._ She struggled briefly before undoing said pants.

He slowed their brisk rhythm, nibbling her lips until she whimpered. _No?_

_I was being silly._

One hand cupped her neck, a thumb stroking her jawline. Wanda’s breath skittered as he tugged her lower lip with his teeth, sucking at the last second before releasing.

_I find you to be quite fun,_ he finally replied, his thoughts a mere whisper amongst her lewd mind.

Wanda nuzzled into his face and opened her eyes to meet his. She teased the front of his pants. Snaking her hand inside wasn’t necessary; prying it open sufficed.

Heat seared between them. It oscillated in wanton kisses, pleased moans, knowing glances, and desperate touches. Wanda basked in how he regarded her as resplendent. She glided her hand over him, loving how he throbbed from mere touch alone. A devilish smirk quirked to life.

“The feeling’s mutual,” she moaned out.

She caressed him with one hand and brushed fingertips along his forehead. A red light relieved them of the shadows existing in the bedroom, highlighting their faces. The energy wove between Wanda’s fingers and stretched to connect their scalps. Another twitch of her fingers and the spell completed.

Vision closed his eyes—tinted purple from the light—hitched his breath, and stiffened. Multiple trembles consumed him, each one producing another breathless moan. She cradled the back of his head, tugged him down, and kissed his forehead, crimson light still glimmering between them. Keeping her lustful thoughts at bay around Vision was a challenge, especially while at the mercy of his kisses and attentive hands. Why keep those fantasies a secret? Better to share them, especially if he ran short on ideas.

The energy vibrated again and Wanda closed her eyes with a tiny gasp. Kind, gentle sentiments saturated her like a bath after a grueling day. Adoring whispers echoed in her mind. So did a few, stray thoughts that made even Wanda turn coy. Her hands faltered against him as she experienced multiple scenarios in unison. Times before they ever shared a kiss and admitted what lingered in their hearts. Times when there wasn’t a bed in a hundred-foot radius and any flat surface would do. It rivaled with her own dirty daydreams.

_And where,_ she gently eased into his mind, _did you ever come up with half of those ideas?_

She blushed to her toes from that seductive chuckle alone. _Wouldn_ _’t you like to know?_

Before questioning further, before she even opted to submerge into his mind for half of a clue, Vision caught her wrist, deprived her—and himself—of teasing strokes, and pinned her hand beside her head. She drew her knees into her chest on instinct, glad she was coherent enough to do that with his distracting thoughts mixing with hers. One hand settled into her thigh as he realigned above her, still quivering and gasping from the flood of fantasies she shared. His lips closed over hers. It did little to silence her from crying out once he sank into her.

Nails clawed his neck and shoulders and left no marks. Wanda sucked down air in between broken kisses. Her tongue moistened dry lips, unable to contain her erotic pleas. Each thrust bled with countless fantasies—both his and her own—until they merged into a single instance. It could overwhelm any human; thankfully, neither of them qualified as _any_ human.

No need to pause and adjust. No need to question anything. Not when their minds linked and spoke a thousand conversations in the span of a second. And his vibranium form molding to perfectly fit her didn’t hurt, either. Whatever dissatisfaction or uncertainty Wanda experienced vanished as soon as it blipped to life. It was in the slow, yet burning kisses contrasting the steady fervor pumping into her. It was the gentle hand easing into hers, fingers tickling her palm and testing the spaces for a reassuring squeeze. It was in the fleeting moments their eyes met, as if it was their first encounter again.

Arching her back and lolling her head, she relished that familiar sensation beguiling her. Every time he filled her to the hilt and their bodies brushed with subtle friction, Wanda inched closer to tasting that ecstasy. So close, yet too far away to her liking. As the thought blossomed to life, he took cue and gained momentum. She shook beneath him, ignoring the exhaustion and anticipation.

A sharp moan vibrated through their broken kiss. If his actions didn’t scream for him, then his thoughts painted a vivid picture. Wanda trembled in sync with Vision, experiencing his own release as if it were hers. It sapped her lungs of air, though rendered her insatiable once it faded. As much as she loved witnessing him indulging in her, she couldn’t ignore her own needs.

Wanda pouted, wiggling her hips into his. “I hope you’re not too tired to—”

He dipped into her, through her. Arms enveloped her from behind. One hand groped her breast as the other dove between her legs. Hard kisses crawled up her neck and reached her ear.

“You were saying?” he moaned into her.

Closing her eyes, she rolled her hips and parted her legs. He slicked his fingers against her, still nibbling her neck until she cried out a particular way. Hard not to with teeth tempting her skin. And when he stroked that swollen clit of hers? How the hell could anyone keep quiet?

She squirmed despite her efforts and he secured her against him. Every breath rattled in her body. The red energy connecting their minds writhed. She darted a hand back to paw him, yearning for anything to touch. She begged him with thoughts and moans alike to not stop. All she wanted was him. His hungry kisses, his relentless touch, his indecent thoughts teasing her. Every last bit. She was twisting in bed with him, she was back in the Avengers Compound pinned to the kitchen counter, she was in an alleyway stealing more than kisses before a flight, she was curled up in his lap at that cafe to tide over the wait for her overpriced drink.

Wanda arched her back and squeaked out a whimper. His name fluttered out her feeble lips before lust blinded her with that delectable fog. Muscles throbbed and screamed. Wave after wave of pleasure lavished her. Once it subsided, her cries dulled to coos as she trembled to stillness.

Shallow breaths even out, but her body still twitched in the afterglow. The red energy faded and plummeted the room to darkness. Wanda didn’t protest when Vision shifted, still cradling her as he lounged on his side. He scattered kisses across her face before sinking into her lips for something long and passionate.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced,” he whispered. “I’ll always love you. Nothing can stop that. Not distance, not death—none of it.”

She forced her heavy lids open. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Simply being yourself. That’s all.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I love you so much, Vizh. No one else could ever make me as happy and safe and loved as you. I can’t imagine life any other way.”

He smiled against her when she tugged him closer for kiss after kiss, each one growing lazier than the first.

“You alright?” he asked when she ceased to open her mouth to his.

A tired laugh escaped her. “Should I scream louder next time?”

“Is that even humanly possible for you?”

“Are you trying to suggest something?”

He blinked, then smirked. “ _Now_ I am.”

Wanda moaned at the thought. “You and your damn, sexy vibranium body are going to be the death of me.”

“I… wasn’t conspiring against you or—”

“No, no. Not like that. It would be a good death.” Loose arms snaked around his neck as she licked her lips. “Though more like collapse of exhaustion than actual death.”

He released a breath. “I think I can live with that.” He paused. “So?”

“Hmm?”

“Shall I continue with attempting this so-called death of yours?”

Wanda erupted with laughter, mustering what strength remained in her sapped body, and shoved Vision onto his back. She loomed above and swept hair out of her face, a mixture of sweat and residual rain sticking it to her skin. Pinning his shoulders into the mattress, she lowered herself to ghost smirking lips over his.

“I don’t ever recall telling you to stop.”


	5. Chapter 5

She remembered retreating beneath the covers deep into the night. There were tender kisses and featherlight touches. Her body burned and she smiled. The rain died to a faint trickle. Wanda closed her eyes and the storm boomed. She snapped her eyes open.

She wished she hadn’t.

Dark clouds blotted out the sun and unleashed a deluge. Trees trembled and groaned through the onslaught. A forest... she knew this area. Wanda spun in place. Wakanda’s vibrant colors washed out to dull hues as the storm persisted. And she stood where it all happened, where she both loathed and accepted death.

Her breath caught in her raw throat. “Vizh?” Nothing. “Vision?!”

Only the rain greeted her.

Again she whipped around, blinking rain out of her frantic eyes. She searched for someone—anyone—to comfort her. His body wasn’t there. He wasn’t _anywhere_. Perhaps he never left the laboratory. Clinging to what threads dangled in her logic, Wanda hugged herself to combat the rain and lumbered to the cliff.

Nothing humored the landscape except grass and ruin.

_What is this? This... no, this isn_ _’t...._ Wanda dropped to her knees, unable to feel her heart beating in her chest. _Did I mess up? This reality I created... is it...._ She closed a quivering hand over her mouth, though it did little to restrain the sobs bubbling up.

Rain streamed down her cheeks to mask the tears she failed to hide. Not that there was anyone left to witness her pain. Cold hands raked her hair. Casting her gaze to the heavens, she screamed for no one to hear.

The rain stopped. Her voice echoed through clear blue skies. Wanda gasped.

Concrete replaced forests. Various aircraft littered the abandoned runway. A constant wind rolled through the expanse.

She scrambled to her feet, struggling to stand. _What is going on?_ “Vizh?” she tried again, a distinct crack in her voice. “Please, where are you?” Wanda rubbed her arms and broke out into a jog. “I-I need to find you, so please.”

Smoke stained the air and burned as bad as the tears. Not even embers remained as Wanda trekked through the ashes. No bodies. No sign of life anywhere.

Parted lips never ceased to quiver. “Vision!” she shrieked, though her strength fizzled before she sucked in the air to project.

Circling a corner of the airport, Wanda froze. A familiar city crumbled. Breaking her momentum, she plodded through demolished buildings and broken machinery. The turbulent wind played with her hair and brought dust and ash with it. Wanda spat out laughter, the sound blending with pained sobs.

_Why am I here?_ She stumbled into a stubborn wall that refused to fall. _This can_ _’t be real. No, it must be a dream._ Tears blinded her as she collapsed to the rubble. _Unless everything else was a dream... and this is my reality now._

Hope flickered in her heart like a single candlelight. She tossed her head, hissed in air, and screamed for him.

He would hear her, right? This was where he saved her, when she welcomed death again. Maybe now it would be permanent for her. He thought otherwise, though. He gave her a second chance, believing in her more than she did for herself.

And as Vision’s name echoed and skittered like a dull knife in her throat, that little flame in her heart snuffed out.

_This isn_ _’t real,_ she told herself. _It can_ _’t be. This is just a dream, so wake up._ She smacked her temples and gritted her teeth. _Wake up, damn it!_

Nothing shook her free. Maybe she was right; maybe this was her reality now.

The ground shifted beneath Wanda. Broken cement and circuitry floated alongside her. She hitched her breath. The city plummeted and she followed. A twisted jerk within rendered her numb. Clouds zipped by and the sun warmed her, but it did not ease the dreadful void expanding within.

She didn’t bother to check the skies. He wasn’t coming for her. Not this time. Closing her eyes, Wanda ignored the itch in her blood that begged to be released. What was the point in using her powers to save herself? Why live in an empty world?

The questions faded. Tension melted from her being. Hair whipped across her face as she awaited the inevitable. She ignored the sensation skittering up her side and leaping off her shoulder. Something other than her hair poked her nose. Then again. The third time she distinguished it from her frizzy locks—a soft pad squished the tip of her nose.

It was enough to elicit a gasp. It was enough to jolt her awake and banish the nightmare.

Shallow breaths impaled her lungs. Convulsions gripped her until nausea swirled in her stomach. Wanda blinked and adjusted to her surroundings. Hints of twilight seeped into the room. This wasn’t Wakanda or Germany or Sokovia—this was home. _Their_ home.

The thought froze Wanda, but the warmth enveloping her thawed whatever dread surfaced. A loose arm draped over her. Swallowing hard, she peeked past her shoulder.

Vision buried himself into the pillow and her back. Neither discomfort nor worry lined his sleeping face. Turned out she _could_ tire him, after all, even if it meant growing sore herself before he ever lost momentum. She didn’t want it any other way. Furthermore, he was alive. He was _real_. All of this was. Long, steady breaths flowed through him while he cradled Wanda, oblivious to the horrors she faced.

She smoothed a shaking hand over his arm. Tears teased her, though never fell. How often did she need to remind herself of their safety?

A soft _brrrrp_ broke the silence. Wanda blinked and rolled over. Green slit pupils stared at her. A few blinks and she adjusted to the barely illuminated room; a black cat sat in front of her.

Wanda gasped. “Why hello there,” she whispered. Lifting a hand, she smiled, albeit slightly, as the cat rubbed into her palm. “Was that you who nudged me awake?” Recalling the nightmare left her breath and heart skipping. “I bet it was.”

The cat purred and nuzzled profusely into her hand. Her fingertips bumped along a collar. Wanda traced its neck and reached a fish-shaped charm.

“Wiccan,” she said, squinting at the engraved words. “What a lovely name.”

She scritched behind those perked ears, only to stop when another cat jumped onto the bed. The sleek, white cat zipped to Wanda, shoving Wiccan aside. Side-by-side, the two mirrored each other in build and structure, save for the color of their plush fur. She snorted while they competed for her hand.

“And who are you?” She also found a collar and read the tag. “Speed. Must be brothers. Guess begging for attention is genetic.”

Rubbing beneath Speed’s chin, she delighted in the two additions to her home. They batted her hand and rammed their faces into hers—less of a morning welcome and more of a plea for food. She stirred, not keen on leaving the comfortable spot. Or a certain someone who secured her in bed.

With a free hand, she flexed fingers above Vision’s head. Energy trickled out to coax his mind to shift his density. Wanda phased through his embrace, kissed his temple, and stumbled out of bed.

Both cats jumped to the floor with excited meows, tails raised high while Wanda shuffled about the bedroom. She yawned and stretched, ignoring the aches in her body, all enticing her to flop back into bed. Instead, curiosity tugged her along despite her sluggish movements.

The area was far bigger than her personal space at the Avengers Compound. Not to mention less like a scant dormitory. She checked various doors, one leading to a master bathroom, another a linen closet, and the last one finally revealing a walk-in closet. A collection of her favorite outfits—items she once owned and only dreamed of wearing—hung from countless hangers. She picked a pair of red panties and a black, zip-up hoodie barely covering her hips.

Fussing with the zipper, she walked to the stairs and paused. She peered at the bed. Vision had yet to stir, nestled beneath a thick comforter and lost to a deep slumber. _It_ _’s okay,_ she reasoned with herself and continued.

Speed and Wiccan led the way down the hall as Wanda trailed behind. She gave up on her zipper, leaving her hoodie open. Not a habit she dreamed of pulling off at the Avengers Compound, but this was her own, private abode. No need to worry about bumping into Steve or Tony while barely decent. The thought left her smirking.

Twilight cast a dim glow through the loft apartment, highlighting a rustic, yet contemporary interior. Brick and plaster panels lined the perimeter in a space washed with muted, warm hues against whites and metallics. Eclectic art adorned the walls and shelves in an organized, minimalistic chaos. Trinkets far from ordinary, yet welcoming. Not just to her—for both of them. Wanda blinked, several tears trailing her cheeks while absorbing everything. _Our home,_ she echoed, brushing fingertips along every surface she passed and wiping lingering tears with a loose fist.

The stairs proved to be difficult. Both cats sat at the bottom and watched Wanda grip the banister as she inched down. Halfway through her descent, she rolled her eyes and twirled her wrists. Crimson energy flickered to life and lifted her. Wanda sighed and floated to the first floor, a slight stumble in her steps upon reaching the wooden floorboards. Wiccan meowed and rubbed against her shin.

“Yeah, it’s too early for that,” Wanda mumbled.

The open concept floor spanned the length of the living area to a dining area and then finally a kitchen. It was massive in comparison to what she recalled the previous night. On second thought, when Vision was testing her focus, all those details blurred until she only experienced him. A small smile cracked to life across her bleak expression.

Wanda followed the hungry meows into the kitchen. She skimmed polished marble countertops, discerning the contents behind each wooden cupboard.

“Where would I keep cat food, hmm?” she murmured.

After multiple attempts, she located the elusive cans on a high shelf along with containers of loose-leaf tea. She split the can between the cats, making kissy sounds as she herded them to the side. Wanda almost laughed upon finding a feeding mat at the end of the island—exactly where she would have placed it if given the choice.

She prepared tea for herself once Speed and Wiccan munched on their breakfast. The teas she plucked out to smell infused her with a nostalgia she never knew existed. She couldn’t explain it. Something bittersweet, yet promising. Both heartbreaking and heartwarming shoved into a corked bottle. Just like everything else. While steeping tea, she sniffled and steadied her breaths.

Vision was alive. And so was she. They lived in a world neither of them had to hide from. They had a home along with two adorable little cats she couldn’t wait to introduce him to. Whatever remained in her previous life couldn’t compare to this freedom. It existed because she wished for it. No one could take that away from them ever again.

With a steaming cup of English breakfast in hand, Wanda exited the kitchen. The couches beside the windows were a perfect spot to lounge in as the sun rose. She enjoyed those moments—savoring the solitude while everyone else was unaware of the world waking up. Five steps past the kitchen and she hissed. A Sokovian curse burst forth as she tripped and regained balance. Tea splashed out of her mug. Glancing down, Wanda huffed—her damn, soggy coat from last night slumped on the floor.

She kicked it free from her foot and bent to retrieve it. There had to be coat hangers somewhere to hang it up proper, let alone to dry. Maybe there were paper towels somewhere to clean the mess she made. Wanda sighed and flicked her wrist, telekinetically lifting the coat.

A pronounced _thud_ sounded at her feet upon collecting her coat. Wanda wrinkled her brow; a cellphone lay on the floor, the blank screen staring at her. _Did I have that on me the whole night?_ She secured her coat in an adjacent closet, then scooped up the phone. _I didn_ _’t have anything before I came here... back at Tony’s place or even Wakanda. But here?_ She poked the screen to life. A vivid photo of Speed and Wiccan sleeping together filled the lock screen. Wanda quirked her lips and recalled her former password.

The phone opened to her texts. Green eyes snapped wide open. She gasped and almost dropped her phone and tea.

Three unread messages sat at the top from Pietro Maximoff.

She blinked, waiting for the notification to disappear. This was a joke. Or her mind played tricks with her. Or perhaps she had yet to wake from her slumber and the nightmare persisted. Each time Wanda deemed everything an illusion, the same messages glowed and waited.

Her inhales gutted her throat. She wobbled to a couch; her strength depleted as she collapsed into the cushions. Wanda forgot the tea she spilled, her rumbling stomach, and the comforts residing in her home. All that consumed her was a familiar name the world forgot and she stubbornly clung to.

Wanda settled her cup on a coffee table to clutch her phone with both hands. After several deep, yet tremulous breaths, she tapped the message open.

 

**_[Pietro]_** Hey are you good with meeting up tonight?

**_[Pietro]_** I know you mentioned wanting to look at dresses. Guess we can squeeze that in before dinner

**_[Pietro]_** I’m still game for that, but wanted to double check

 

A little picture loomed beside each line. She almost dismissed it as someone else when she found a clean shaved face, but that silver hair and cocky smirk belonged to only her twin. The time stamps marked the messages from an hour ago. Not years ago when they stood side-by-side, but today. That very morning.

Wanda curled tense fingers around the device as the screen dimmed. Was it really him? He blipped into her life as if he was never gone to begin with. Regardless, what was she to say to him? Her attention drifted to the window. _What did I want to say then? Back when I thought you_ _’d never leave me?_

She revived her phone with a swift password entry and stared at the message again. Another inhale and she replied.

 

**_[Wanda]_** Pietro? Is that you?

 

She sighed. _What kind of message is that? I doubt he knows he died in another life. Why would—_

Her gasp cleared the toxic thoughts lingering as three dots pulsed to life at the bottom.

 

**_[Pietro]_** Um, yeah?

**_[Pietro]_** Should it not be?

**_[Pietro]_** Are you hungover?

**_[Wanda]_** Shut up, I’m not

**_[Pietro]_** Not sure if that’s a good thing or bad thing

**_[Pietro]_** But yeah, last I checked, I’m me

**_[Pietro]_** How about you? Still Wanda, right?

 

Fresh tears swelled in her eyes. She laughed, smothering the sound with a loose hand. After a string of sniffles, she dried her eyes as best as she could and returned to the messages.

 

**_[Wanda]_** Yeah. Still me

**_[Pietro]_** Sweet. Glad we’re on the same page

**_[Pietro]_** Hokay. So.

**_[Pietro]_** Dinner

**_[Pietro]_** Yes or no?

**_[Pietro]_** Which I guess the follow up would be like, dress—yes or no?

**_[Pietro]_** Not exactly how I’d want to spend an afternoon, but anything for my kid sister

**_[Wanda]_** We’re twins

**_[Pietro]_** I’m still technically twelve minutes older than you, so

 

She grinned and shook her head. It was him. Pietro—he was alive. It instilled perpetual trembles within her.

 

**_[Wanda]_** I’ve missed you

**_[Pietro]_** Seriously?

**_[Pietro]_** We literally talked yesterday on the phone

**_[Pietro]_** You know, when my flight landed

**_[Pietro]_** Shit’s expensive

**_[Pietro]_** If it wasn’t, I’d be out there every week instead of every month

**_[Wanda]_** It’s been forever since I last saw you

**_[Pietro]_** Geez, now you sound like me

**_[Wanda]_** But you’re here now?

**_[Pietro]_** Uh, in Scotland, yeah

**_[Pietro]_** Flight to Glasgow was cheaper than Edinburgh

**_[Pietro]_** And don’t get me started on hotel rates

**_[Wanda]_** You could’ve stayed here

**_[Pietro]_** Wow

**_[Pietro]_** How about no??

**_[Pietro]_** I don’t need dinner and a show

**_[Pietro]_** There’s like, no doors, Wanda

**_[Pietro]_** Except for the bathroom

**_[Pietro]_** Which is right. next. to. the. bedroom.

**_[Wanda]_** The couch is comfy

**_[Pietro]_** Cool story. I can still hear you two putting bunnies to shame

 

She almost choked on her saliva.

 

**_[Wanda]_** It’s not that bad

**_[Pietro]_** Uh huh. Sure

**_[Pietro]_** If you say so

 

She smacked her burning face.

 

**_[Pietro]_** Anywho

**_[Pietro]_** Not that far from you

**_[Pietro]_** Like an hour drive or whatever

**_[Wanda]_** You’re driving?

**_[Pietro]_** Pffffff no

**_[Pietro]_** Why would I take the boring option to your place?

**_[Pietro]_** Just trying to put it into perspective for you unfortunate folks who experience time slowly

**_[Wanda]_** You took a flight to here

**_[Pietro]_** Yeah, because the last time I ran across an ocean it landed me in more legal trouble than anticipated

**_[Wanda]_** You? Get in trouble? I’m shocked

**_[Pietro]_** YOU WERE THERE

**_[Pietro]_** WOW HOW RUDE

**_[Wanda]_** What are you even doing up this early, anyways?

**_[Pietro]_** Uh

**_[Pietro]_** Morning run?

**_[Pietro]_** You know, before rush hour becomes a thing?

**_[Pietro]_** Are you sure you’re not hungover?

**_[Pietro]_** Or better yet

**_[Pietro]_** What are YOU doing up, huh?

**_[Wanda]_** ?

**_[Pietro]_** Thought your purple boi kept you busy until like, brunch or something

 

A tiny squeak escaped her lips. She almost matched Vision’s natural complexion at the rate her brother teased her. The sore muscles lining her thighs reminded her of the extensive night as she squirmed. Speed jumping up to sprawl in her lap didn’t help, either.

 

**_[Wanda]_** That’s not true!

**_[Pietro]_** Wow, is he finally slacking?

**_[Pietro]_** Asking for a friend

**_[Wanda]_** PIETRO

**_[Pietro]_** WANDA

**_[Wanda]_** This conversation is over

**_[Pietro]_** Whoa whoa whoa

**_[Pietro]_** Didn’t get a solid answer on dinner and whatever shenanigans we’re doing that involve dresses

**_[Wanda]_** A dress for you?

**_[Pietro]_** Yes

**_[Pietro]_** I flew all the way out to Scotland

**_[Pietro]_** So that YOU

**_[Pietro]_** Could help ME

**_[Pietro]_** Find a damn dress I will just throw in the fire

**_[Wanda]_** What did that poor dress ever do to you?

**_[Pietro]_** Looked at me funny

**_[Pietro]_** Obviously

**_[Pietro]_** So yes or no?

 

She chewed her lip and minimized the chat. Whatever memories she held with her twin weren’t of this reality. Not entirely. Perhaps it was a blend of what actually happened and what she _wanted_ to happen. It was a matter of piecing together the correct fragments. Or maybe Pietro _knew_ , just as Vision was aware of what Wanda had done. Then again, despite their innate and psychic bond, she doubted Pietro nestled into her mind until she revived him.

Thus she flipped through the phone’s calendar to glean any indicators as to what this life held. To her surprise, multiple dots marked the days throughout the week, let alone the month—reminders of meeting up with people she didn’t recognize at various venues and establishments. Wanda sipped her tea while skimming the day’s agenda. A blocked off section labeled _Dinner with Pietro_ made her smile.

Swapping to the chat, over twenty messages overwhelmed her. All snarky pokes from her brother about ignoring him to curl into bed with lover boy. Wanda laughed despite the tears burning her eyes. At least they were happy tears; for so long, she didn’t believe that concept.

 

**_[Wanda]_** Yeesh, relax. I’m not as quick as you with a phone

**_[Pietro]_** Not with that attitude

**_[Wanda]_** Anyhow, yeah, I’m good for dinner tonight

**_[Pietro]_** Sweet!

**_[Pietro]_** You still want to do dresses?

 

She twitched her lips. Not like she _needed_ any. If her new wardrobe was any indicator, she had ample clothing to dress multiple people, all in season to boot. The thought of denying her brother of an opportunity to hang out, however, made Wanda reconsider.

 

**_[Wanda]_** Yeah, sure

**_[Pietro]_** Perfect. I’ll see you tonight then

**_[Wanda]_** Sounds good

 

And yet she stared at her phone, silence suffocating her. A million thoughts begged for her consideration. Another inhale and her fingers moved.

 

**_[Wanda]_** Pietro?

**_[Pietro]_** ???

**_[Wanda]_** I meant it when I said I missed you. It’s hard to explain, but I feel like it’s been years and that I’ve been living this nightmare without you and… yeah, I’m looking forward to you coming over tonight

 

No razor-sharp wit snapped into view. She stroked the purring white cat in her lap and drank her tea. Those three dots bounced relentlessly. Wanda fidgeted, anticipation chewing her alive.

 

**_[Pietro]_** Hey, I know the sleeping thing hasn’t been kind to you, but I’m right here, Wanda. Maybe not sitting next to you this very moment, but you can always call or text me. You know that. And as long as I’m alive, I’ll always be here for you. No matter what. I don’t care if you’re sad or angry or scared or whatever. Your well-being? I care about that. I never want you to feel alone. We’ve always had each other’s back and nothing is going to change that. I’m also glad you found someone who not only makes you happy, but looks out for you. Wouldn’t be frolicking with you for dresses if I didn’t like the guy. I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t worry, Wanda. Everyone wants the best for you. We’re here for you and we love you. Please never forget that. And I’ll be there before you know it. I promise.

 

She read his wall of text multiple times. Years separated her from their last interaction. Back then, they jested amidst a war zone. Wanda replayed those moments like a broken record in her mind. What could she have done differently? Could she save her literal other half? And there he was, acting as if not a second had separated them.

 

**_[Wanda]_** Thank you, Pietro. I love you, too. I can’t wait to see you

 

A slew of smiling and heart emojis popped into view. Her notifications calmed down and she scrolled up to reread their exchange. Not an illusion. It was him. And he was teasing her about dresses, flight costs, and her inability to keep her hands off Vision.

“Fuck,” Wanda said, the words a raspy flutter, “I’ve missed you.”


	6. Chapter 6

The blue haze gradually burned off as dawn eased in. Morning rays had yet to peek through the sleepy city, though the promise of its warmth was certain. Wanda nestled her tea mug into her cheek, cherishing what heat remained, and stared out the window.

She swore she spoke with a ghost and not her actual brother. Either that or someone perfected his antics to assume his identity. After growing used to his absence, he slipped back into her life unaware. Now she didn’t want it any other way.

Wanda sipped her tea and stroked Speed, purring and lounging in her lap. Fingers tapped the ceramic mug. In her reprieve, another thought surfaced—if her brother was alive, then who else was?

Swallowing hard, Wanda traded her mug for her phone. Wiccan joined her side and batted the drawstrings of her hoodie. She petted the cats with one hand and navigated the mobile interface with the other. A plethora of names lined her text messages. One by one, she opened them to confirm the timestamps of recent texts. Most were from yesterday, if not the day before. An image accompanied each message of the person in question.

She found Tony first. Her brows knitted together. Nothing malicious from either of them in their interactions. In another life, Wanda struggled to be civil with him. Now? He teased her about stealing Vision away from New York and how they needed to get out of bed and come visit him and Pepper once in a while. From the looks of her own responses, Wanda didn’t mind the playful banter. She tilted her head—did the Avengers ever exist in this reality?

But he was alive, like Pietro and Vision. Perhaps in this life, they could bond without the self-imposed barriers they placed between each other.

Then Wanda gasped at the next familiar face.

Little had changed, all things considered. Clint was no stranger to being a father and he took her under his wing when she struggled to keep her shit together on a battlefield. Hard love, but love nonetheless. She admired his wit and resolve. She couldn’t imagine a fight without him. Seeing their snarky messages flooded with memes and gifs warmed her heart, though not as much as the picture at the top—it was of Clint in his travels, a smile stretching his lips and a certain redhead nuzzled in his embrace.

She enlarged the image. The lush, sprawling scenery was no doubt in Scotland. If her suspicions were correct, then that meant….

Tabbing out of her messages, Wanda dove into her photo files and frantically searched. Hundreds of colorful images zipped by, ranging from breathtaking landscapes to adorable outtakes with Wiccan and Speed to candid city shots. Interspersed in the mix were moments captured with beloved friends. Everyone she crossed paths with in the Avengers—they smiled for her pictures and willingly embraced Wanda for group selfies.

Somewhere in that flood was a string of pictures with Clint and Natasha visiting the area. Wanda picked one and checked its properties—taken less than a month ago. Again she flipped to her messages. Not far from Clint’s text was Natasha Romanoff. Of course their messages to each other were in Sokovian. Of course they traded silly Pinterest recipes and online fashion sales.

Of course the last message from her was yesterday morning.

 Wanda smiled despite the few tears slipping free. _I did it,_ she mused, hugging her phone to her chest. _Everyone is alright. Everything they longed for_ _… it exists. No more fighting or watching loved ones die._ She sniffled and rubbed her eyes. _We can be happy now. We can finally rest. We—_

A soft weight settled on her shoulder. Wanda gasped and flinched. Jerking her head back, she gazed at Vision looming above.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he murmured with open hands as an apology. “It’s me.”

It was. Just the two of them, not included the cats. He still donned his human guise, clad in loose, long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants to match. And that look… always gentle, always admiring her despite life’s struggles. Yet another thing she no longer needed to fret over. This was their life now. _This is real,_ she kept reminding herself.

It didn’t stop the tears from flowing, though.

She curled up into herself, stirring Speed out of his lazy perch. Wanda buried her face into her knees. She caught Vision walking through the couch, though was blind to him kneeling before her.

“Wanda,” he said, “is everything alright?” His tender hands barely touched her shaking arms. “Did something happen?”

After several shallow breaths, she found her voice. “This world happened. I can’t… it’s overwhelming. All because of me.”

“But that’s a good thing, right?”

“No, it is. I’m just trying to wrap my head around it. I don’t think I ever will.”

“Sometimes the world’s greatest mysteries are better kept as secrets, despite our own curiosity.”

Wanda chewed her lip. The severe furrow of her brow dared to deliver a headache. “My brother’s alive.” She took Vision’s silence as a sign to continue. “So is Tony. And Natasha. And probably more. It’s like they were never gone to begin with and I don’t think they’re even aware of what _happened_ , of what I _did_ to make this a reality. Is it… is it horrible of me to be aware of the truth while no one else knows?”

“Do you not wish for this to be your world anymore?”

“What?” She snapped her head up and almost suffocated from the pained expression facing her. “Vizh, no, that’s not what I meant. I want this.” She pawed for his hands at her sides and squeezed. “I wouldn’t change it for anything. Still… it feels as if I swapped lives with another Wanda who was here. I remember everything that happened before this, the destruction and pain and deaths… but I go through my phone and find memories that were never mine. It’s like I’ve been asleep for years and am finally waking up. I—”

Her eyes drifted. She fell numb to the cats nuzzling into her body, the sun trickling in through the windows, and the tears splashing into her lap.

“Wanda?” Vision leaned to the side to catch her gaze, yet she didn’t flinch.

“I had a dream,” she said, her voice but a fragile crack, “that everything was gone. No one was left. It was only me. I… I tried to find you. I knew that if at least you were there, then nothing else mattered. But I kept calling for you and you didn’t respond and I looked everywhere and I swore it was real and I thought… maybe _this_ is just a dream and I’m going to wake up any moment and lose you again—”

Swift arms swept her forward. She squeaked and melted in his tight embrace, sliding hands beneath his shirt to scale up his back and cling to his shoulders. Tears flowed as she hid her face in his neck. All the while, he caressed her and murmured into her ear.

“I’m right here,” Vision reassured her. “I’ll never leave your side again. No matter what happens, I can promise you that. So long as you wish for this reality to exist, it will do just that, Wanda. This world isn’t out to harm you anymore. It is full of those you care for, who care as much about you in return. I wish I could erase everything that pains you, but what I can offer are love and support. Please never forget that.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. Something small, but a smile nonetheless. “You’re too good to me.”

Vision chuckled against her hair. “I think the same thing about you every waking moment.” He reined back enough to gaze into her eyes. “If something is troubling you, even if it’s a dream, you can tell me. I’ve never thought less of you because of it.”

“You were sleeping, though.”

“And?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked peaceful.”

He breathed out a laugh as his smile grew. “For all intents and purposes, I _did_ spend the last few days napping in your mind before you revived me. You waking me up wouldn’t be a nuisance if it brought you some peace of mind.”

“What, did I not tire you out enough last night?”

Blush blossomed across his fair cheeks. Wanda couldn’t help but smirk.

“Well,” Vision drew out, his voice meant for her ears alone, “it also sounds like I should try harder next time.”

“Oh?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to walk away so early in the morning.”

It was her turn to blush. “I’m not sure I’d call what I did this morning walking.”

They chuckled together, never breaking eye contact or loosening their hold on the other.

“I wish to make you happy,” Vision said, kissing her cheeks as her tears dried.

“You already do.” She smiled each time his lips met her skin. “I hope the feeling’s mutual.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Wanda shrugged. “Guess I’m used to disappointment.”

“Then you better get used to living without it.”

She chewed her lip when those kisses wandered down her neck. Goosebumps prickled beneath her skin as she steadied her breath. Whatever anxieties festered within smoothed away with each kiss. She longed to bask in the affection until the sun tired and retreated to the horizon.

A _brrrp_ sounded between them. Vision broke away, much to Wanda’s frustration. They gazed at the black cat amusing himself with her hoodie’s drawstrings.

“I’m assuming this was your doing?” Vision asked with a slight smile.

“Don’t tell me you’re allergic,” she teased.

He laughed at that. “Hardly. Didn’t realize you were a cat person.”

“I always wanted one.” She stroked Wiccan’s plush fur as he gnawed that elusive drawstring. “My father didn’t like them. Said we couldn’t afford another mouth to feed. Then after everything that happened… I had bigger priorities than wanting a cat.”

“And when you were at the Avengers Compound? I’m sure Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers would have allowed a pet in your quarters.”

A coy expression glossed over Wanda. “I wanted unconditional love from someone who didn’t judge me. Turned out I didn’t need a cat.”

Their eyes locked, speaking a thousand unspoken words. His blush deepened; Wanda considered that a victory. Vision looked back and forth between the two cats: Wiccan swatting away and Speed sprawled over the arm of the couch.

“Should I be concerned for my own safety if these two are to replace me?”

Wanda cackled. “They could never replace you—just a stubborn childhood wish.” She smirked, unlatching her hands from his shoulders to skim his sides. “Think of them as children.”

“ _Children_?”

“Yeah. Small, furry children.” She snorted at his perplexed expression. “Like adopted, Vizh.”

“I suppose that would make sense.” He dropped a hand to dangle above the cat. Wiccan sniffed Vision’s fingers and rubbed his face against them. “I can see the appeal.”

“Still will take some getting used to.”

 He gently worked his fingers into Wiccan’s scalp, who purred up a storm in response. “Having furry children?”

“That and so many things.” She retracted her hands from beneath his shirt, ghosting his face with her fingers. “Getting used to people being alive again, no longer hiding from the world, not needing to _save_ the world.” She sighed, a mixture of overwhelmed and content. “Finally sharing a life with you.”

“You say it as though we were deprived of such a concept.”

“Not like this.” Wanda cupped his face.

Vision leaned into her and closed his eyes. Gentle kisses graced her palm. She curled her fingers into him and held her breath. A week ago, if that, she witnessed his death not once, but twice. None of that existed in this new world. Just them and whatever made them happy.

“We have all our lives ahead of us now,” Vision murmured, opening his blue eyes. “I know I intend to make the most of it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

Another smile, then he leaned in for a proper kiss. Not long enough for Wanda’s liking.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” he suggested. “I can make you tea if you’d like.”

She tilted her head and tugged at his shirt. “I’m comfortable right here.”

His gaze dropped to inspect her hands, only to pause upon eyeing her current attire—hardly decent, yet beyond inviting. Wanda nearly forgot herself until Vision skimmed the edge of her open hoodie, teasing the exposed skin along the way. He lingered at her breasts and she hitched her breath, somehow suppressing a whimper when he resumed motion.

“I can see that,” he said.

“I would’ve worn one of your shirts,” Wanda said, “but there wasn’t anything on the floor.” Or in the wardrobe, to her knowledge. Not exactly a surprise, but a disappointment considering the morning’s circumstances.

The mention, however, elicited a slight raise in his brows. “Noted.”

Oh, what thoughts had she burrowed into his mind with something as simple as wearing his shirt instead? Wanda delighted in that mystery and steered clear from skimming his mind. Instead, she dipped in to steal a kiss.

“I might take you up on that tea, though,” she purred.

“You still take it the same way?” Vision asked, rising to his feet.

Wanda stretched on the couch, dramatically arching her back. “You know how I like it.”

He stood speechless, lips parted before reclaiming his voice. “I’m starting to wonder if you mean something other than tea.”

A devilish giggle danced past her lips. “What ever gave you that idea?”

Wanda sprung to her feet. Or at least attempted to. Her body had yet to fully recover, despite her lazy morning. Wincing with a hiss, she stumbled into Vision’s arms.

“You were saying?” he asked.

“Maybe a thought for another time,” Wanda grumbled into his chest.

“So tea, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Shall I grab you an ice pack or—”

Wanda playfully smacked his shoulder and snorted. “I’ll be fine, Vizh.”

Nothing humored his expression. “I… didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Her eyebrows perked up and Wanda licked her smirking lips. “Trust me, you did anything but that. Just—” She shuffled to the stairs. “—forget you’re made of… synthetic stuff.”

“I can be gentler.”

With his eyes cast down paired against a slight frown, guilt twinged in her heart. “Vizh, you were perfect. If anything, the fact I’m going to crawl up the stairs and into a hot bath means you exceeded expectations.”

In time, his attention returned to her. “If you need anything—”

“Tea would be lovely.” Wanda smiled, hand on the banister.

She caught a hint of a smile before he retreated to the kitchen. As for Wanda, she regretted each step throughout her ascent.

A blur of white fur bolted past her. Speed sat at the top, patiently waiting for her to join him. Wanda followed him into the bathroom, the only room in the loft apartment with a door, just as Pietro said. Laughter spilled from her—at least Vision wouldn’t have to worry about closed doors in this home of theirs.

The thought evoked an old memory when he first walked through the walls separating the halls from her room. She was drying off after a shower, stressed with indecision as to what her outfit for the day would be. Exercise routines with Natasha cycled in her head—not enough room in the equation for a certain someone to literally walk in on her.

He had barely uttered three words. Wanda almost yelped, only to find Vision more petrified than she was. He whipped around, back facing her and eyes cemented to the floor. Endless apologies flooded out.

If it had been someone else—Steve, Tony, Rhodey, Sam, Fury… okay, maybe _not_ Fury; his obscenities would be worth the embarrassment—Wanda wouldn’t have thought twice about launching them out the window. But innocence clouded Vision’s eyes, despite his brilliant mind, and left him borderline groveling for mercy. Wanda wrapped the towel tighter around her form and inched towards him.

“ _Hey_ ,” she had said, soft as possible, “ _it_ _’s alright, you didn’t know and… I wasn’t expecting anyone to walk in on—_ ”

“ _Ms. Romanoff asked me to inform you she had to reschedule today_ _’s lesson_ ,” Vision rattled off, faster than he ever spoke before. “ _It wasn_ _’t my intention to intrude. I had no ulterior motives. Please, forgive—_ ”

“ _Vision._ ”

She placed a hand on his upper back, barely touching him. He froze against her.

“ _My door was closed._ ”

She caught him glancing at said closed door. “ _It appears that is the case._ ”

“ _That means I don_ _’t want anyone in here._ ”

He paused. “ _Then_ _… should I wait outside for you to come out or—_ ”

“ _You can always knock,_ ” she explained with a chuckle.

“ _I can do that for next time._ ”

“ _Thank you._ ”

She opened the door for him to exit and Vision stared at the floor, catching her bare feet and nothing else. Despite the unfortunate turn of events, his reaction was endearing. How many guys would respect her like that? _I guess he_ _’s not exactly a normal human,_ Wanda reasoned with herself while changing. She paused in front of her mirror, hung up on that train of thought.

Lifting a hand, she twitched her fingers. Red energy swirled and melded into the shape of an ethereal butterfly, fluttering off until it vanished. _Then again, neither am I._

Vision didn’t dare look at her for the rest of the day. Even after a debriefing the following week, he remained on the opposite end of the table, far from her reach.

“ _Alright, Glowsticks._ ” Tony had booked it straight to her once the debriefing concluded. “ _Spill it. On a scale of one to ten, what kind of monstrosity did you plant in his head? Toasters dropped in a bath? The Matrix Revolutions on repeat?_ ”

Wanda cocked her head and arched a brow. “ _What?_ ”

“ _You know, the third—_ ” He scoffed and waved at nothing. “ _Right, you_ _’re probably too young for that. Ex Machina, maybe?_ ” He paused. “ _No, that would be_ my _nightmare_.” Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “ _Don_ _’t you be getting any bright ideas, now._ ”

“ _Tony, what are you trying to get at?_ ”

“ _What am I_ _… really?_ ” He jogged after Wanda as she marched off. “ _Vision? You know, my son?_ ” He circled around and blocked her path. “ _Well, not_ _…_ technically _a son, but I care for him like one and okay,_ look _, the point is that he suddenly finds his Birkenstocks_ way _more interesting than whatever important crap I have to say and always when you_ _’re in a ten-foot radius, so… humor me._ ”

“ _I didn_ _’t do anything to him._ ”

“ _Uh-huh. Sure._ ”

She rolled her eyes. Perhaps not directly, but she did have some influence on Vision, whether intentional or not. Letting Tony, of all people, know that? Not exactly on her bucket list. “ _I don_ _’t know what you want me to tell you._ ”

“ _Just keep the magic tricks to a minimum, alright?_ ”

“ _Or what?_ ”

He blinked. “ _Or_ _… you’re… grounded?_ ”

Wanda snorted and walked past him. “ _Maybe brush up on your dad skills?_ ”

“ _You didn_ _’t answer my question!_ ” he called back.

Thankfully it was the first and last occasion someone confronted her on the matter. And when she eventually found Vision alone and ducked in front of him to catch his gaze, she made sure to clear his anxieties.

“ _I don_ _’t want you to be afraid around me,_ ” she had said. “ _Everyone else already is to some extent, whether they want to admit it or not._ ”

“ _And I don_ _’t wish to make you wary of me,_ ” he politely retorted.

“ _You hardly do. You_ _… make me feel more welcomed here than most. I don’t want to lose that. I like it too much._ ”

Those words returned his eyes to her. It was then she discerned that vibrant blue color and the distinct rings around his irises marking him anything but human. She never tired of his gaze on her. Not then, not now.

Wanda stared at the bathroom mirror, steam fogging the surface as she reemerged from her pool of memories. Part of her longed for Vision to walk in on her now. Her aching body thought otherwise, though the mental image left her smirking as she prepared her bath. Speed curled up on the towel she left on the counter, scritching behind his ears before removing her rings. A jewelry dish sat by the sink and she paused.

Another ring sat there. Wanda wasn’t familiar with the design; silver bands with polished stones typically adorned her fingers. This was a thick, black band warped in a design reminiscent of Celtic and Chinese knots. She scooped it up, surprised by its lack of heft and marveled the opalescent sheen in the light. Not once had she desired a ring like it, though when she tested it on her fingers, the sleek band fit her no different from her usual rings.

_Strange,_ she mused, returning it to the dish with the others.

What sparse clothing she wore dropped to the floor. With the faucet turned off and the tub filled with water and lavender bath salts, Wanda eased into it with a sigh. Muscles relaxed and deep brown hair bled in the water. She smiled and spiraled a finger around her locks—restored to her natural color in this reality. No need to dye it for the sake of hiding anymore. It reminded her of the days when she barely thought of styling it. In between routines and missions, Natasha showed her the ropes with an assortment of tools Wanda never bothered to fiddle with. Who was she to impress, anyways? The boys she tempted in her teenage days were meant for a single night of fun.

“ _Maybe it_ _’s not for them,_ ” Natasha had once told her with a knowing smile. “ _Maybe this time? It_ _’s for you._ ”

The notion hadn’t crossed her mind. Wanda either survived or fought for a better life for those who could no longer do so for themselves. What small pleasures she clung to tended to slip through her hands before she comprehended what she had. It was in the unmemorable city she called home. It was in the people who promised to help and did so by exposing her to the mind stone. It was in her brother, there one minute and dead the next.

She had stopped living the second Pietro’s signature faded from the material world. Nothing erased that from Wanda’s memories, even if she created a million new realities. Everything which kept her standing crumbled. And with Ultron removed from the scenario, so was she, in a sense. Her life shattered and she accepted her own death. The others could save the day and live to see tomorrow. As for Wanda? She didn’t want to imagine another day alive.

And yet he deemed her worthy of saving.

She remembered her blood boiling with a rage reserved for the likes of his creator. She didn’t _ask_ to be saved and yet he deprived her of that peace.

“ _You should have left me,_ ” Wanda had growled through clench teeth during the aftermath.

Vision tilted his head, taking her in as silence dangled between them. “ _You didn_ _’t deserve to die._ ”

“ _Yes I did,_ ” she nearly barked back.

“ _Would your brother wish for your death?_ ”

Whatever quip she prepared vanished.

“ _I know you have every right to not believe me,_ ” he continued, his voice enveloping her with a tender quality she never experienced before, “ _but please trust me when I say you are worthy of life, Ms. Maxi—._ ”

“ _Do_ not,” she snapped, “ _ever call me that._ ”

Vision froze, eyes drifting in the fleeting silence. “ _Wanda,_ ” he said, uttering it with similar care as when he flew in to rescue her, “ _you deserve more than the atrocities you_ _’ve been forced to confront in your short life._ ”

She shook her head. “ _I don_ _’t even know how to live my life anymore. Not after this._ ”

“ _I_ _’m not too certain myself on a broader scale._ ” His lips curled. “ _Perhaps we can figure it out together?_ ”

“ _Is that why you saved me?_ ” Snide amusement twisted her tongue. “ _To figure out the secrets of life side-by-side? I_ _’m not some equation for you to figure out, just as I am_ not _a damsel in distress for you to whisk to safety. I didn_ _’t ask for your help, so why are you wasting your time with me?!_ ”

He evaded her fiery stare. She hoped it was enough to silence him. Wanda didn’t require his pity; she longed for a life outside of her grasp. No one could help her with that.

“ _No,_ ” Vision eventually said, carefully picking each word, “ _I only wished for you to live. You intrigue me, yes, but I wouldn_ _’t dare pry if it in turn upset you. Whether or not you desire anything else from me is up to you to decide. Truth be told, if you wanted to never speak to me again, I would respect that._ ”

Wanda blinked. “ _Would you?_ ”

He nodded. “ _If it meant you would be happy again? Then yes. Always._ ”

She never asked him why he was intrigued. In a sense, she didn’t need to. That same sentiment swirled within Wanda since she found him in the Cradle, before he was ever Vision. Distinct emotions cycled in rapid succession, from trepidation to resentment, but intrigue always lingered.

Despite the whirlwind raging in her heart, he approached her. Others fled, but he opted to weather the storm if it meant seeing her for who she was. Wanda dismissed it for his general curiosity with humanity. Oh, how wrong she was. He was the anchor to her hurricane, a constant lost in a flurry of changes. She couldn’t control what people thought of her, but it wasn’t until he held her amidst a battlefield that she valued a single opinion.

“ _I_ _’m sorry,_ ” was what he said, looking nowhere but her.

It didn’t matter if they were at odds—allies turned enemies with his logic combating her raw emotions. For a moment, Wanda forgot the turmoil. Only the two of them and the way he looked at her.

The way he wanted _everyone_ to view her.

“ _Me too,_ ” she murmured.

If only time tilted in their favor. If only the course of life flowed elsewhere. If only she took him up on his offer to abandon their duties altogether sooner.

But it was alright. He said so. Had Vision always known, even then?

Wanda sighed. As much as she longed to soak in the tub forever, there was a cup of tea waiting with her name on it. The afternoon promised her brother, as well, and she intended to take advantage of their lost time together. _He might possibly know more than I do of this world, though,_ Wanda mused while briskly lathering her body. _It might not be in my best interest to mention what had happened in another life._ She paused. _I_ _’m not sure if I can play along or how well I can pull that off, but… it’s still Pietro. That hasn’t changed._ A small smile surfaced as she resumed washing up. _Some things never do._

The warm bath served its purpose, water sucking down the drain as Wanda slipped out. Speed continued to stand guard on her towel. More like napped on the job. She stroked his side and the cat jerked up with a slight _brrp_.

“I need my towel, silly,” Wanda said, making kissy noises to lure Speed off.

After a dramatic stretch and yawn, Speed leaped onto the edge of the tub to lick the sides. As for Wanda, she toweled off and smoothed various lotions and serums into her skin and hair found in the cabinets. Nothing special, but she smiled at her reflection past the residual steam. How long had it been since she allowed herself such frivolous luxuries? Natasha was right; it was nice to do something for herself.

The outfit, however, was for both her and Vision. She recognized the long-sleeved, black shirt with the matching ruffle, cotton skirt she loved to lounge in at the Avengers Compound. It was like wrapping herself up in a comfy blanket—something worn and familiar. Wanda swept damp hair out from the shirt and over her shoulders, examining herself in the mirror again. Almost as if they were still at the Compound, minus the catastrophe in Lagos or the Accords. Also minus the panties, but that was her secret to share with Vision later in the night.

Wanda reached for her rings and paused. That odd band sat within the pile of her favorite pieces, still a mystery. Delicate brows tensed together. She plucked it out and rolled it in her hands again. Licking her lips, Wanda hovered a twitching hand over it and took a breath.

“And where,” she whispered, “did you come from?”

Scarlet energy flourished from her fingertips and wove through the ring. She tugged at the strings for slivers of information to trickle into her mind.

It was vibranium. More importantly, it came from the same batch which created Vision.

Images flourished in rapid succession. Wanda gasped, hand frozen above the ring.

Now she understood the importance behind Pietro’s offer with dress shopping.

Wanda exited the bathroom and sniffed. Something beyond tea permeated the air. Chocolate and berry notes rose to the ceiling. She braced against the railing in the bedroom and peeked below. The kitchen remained out of sight, though there was no hiding the distinct sizzles.

“That sounds like a lot of effort for just tea,” Wanda called out.

“I wasn’t sure how long you would be, so I opted for something creative.”

She raised her brows and smirked. “Really?”

He said no more and Wanda trekked down the stairs with Speed joining her side. The ache lingered, but at least she walked straight enough to reach the kitchen without failure. All the while, she rolled that ring in her palms, anxiety building in her chest.

Whatever Vision decided to concoct, it smelled divine. He took it upon himself to swap attire during her absence; he always looked sharp in fitted pants and a dress shirt, even if the occasion was to stay at home and cook for her. And with Wiccan. The black cat wove between his legs and meowed perpetually.

“No, no,” Vision scolded him, phasing through Wiccan when he turned to the counter, “this isn’t for you. I’m rather certain you wouldn’t like it.” Wiccan meowed and flopped on the tile floor. “Yes, it’s an adorable trick, but you can’t fool me.” Then he caught Wanda’s eye and paused. “Your child is quite the mischievous one.”

She scrunched up her grinning face and leaned into the island. “ _My_ child? He’s yours as much as he’s mine.”

“Well, right now he’s yours. And this—” He slid a plate in front of her. “—is yours, as well.”

With the finished plate presented before her, Wanda gasped. “Is this what I think it is? Shokolade palatschinke?”

Vision tilted his head. “Is that how you pronounce it?”

“I don’t think I’ve had this since I was a kid.” She tossed the ring into her other hand to grab a fork and dig in. Strawberries, bananas, and custard oozed from the thin, cocoa crepe and melted in her mouth. “You’re getting better at this, Vizh.”

“I suppose I should thank _you_ for allowing me the chance to taste things.”

She chuckled, swirling her next bite in raspberry coulis and popping it into her mouth. “Well, don’t get too excited and start licking everything in the kitchen.”

“Is… that normal?”

“For a cat, maybe.” She swallowed and shook her fork at him. “Not really for a human.”

He nodded, watched her enjoy several bites, and said, “Is it alright?”

She licked custard clean from the corner of her mouth. “At this rate, you’re going to spoil me.”

Vision cracked a smile. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Blush warmed her cheeks. This was better than a dream. Whatever this was… no word existed for it.

Tea accompanied her breakfast shortly after, though Vision found himself preoccupied with scooping Wiccan off the countertop than prepping Wanda’s drink. She chuckled as he gently lectured the curious cat, cradling him in one arm while balancing tasks with the other. Just like her meal, the tea warmed her down to her toes: peach ginger green tea with enough honey to bring out the natural flavors.

“You know,” she said after a slow sip, “my brother is showing up today.”

Vision leaned into a counter, resigned to his fate of cuddling with a cat. “Is he?”

Wanda nodded. “Something about a dinner.”

“Are you two staying in or dining out? I can make something, if necessary.”

“We can figure it out once he shows up.” She paused. “It was marked off on my phone, so… whatever plans we made are beyond my knowledge.”

“Does that trouble you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know how much has changed in this world in comparison to what we lived in. I don’t want to be wearing masks for anyone.”

“Then don’t.”

“Still… I worry about what would happen if… you know. The truth came out.”

“The only truth, as far as I’m concerned, is that you’re happy with this life. I cannot say what might happen if one of us were to mention our previous lives, but… this is a fresh start, yes? I plan to treat it as such. How you choose to react is up to you, but know I support you regardless.”

She didn’t expect any less from Vision. Always shining light on every scenario, despite her fears. What distress bubbled in her throat settled down and allowed her to breathe again. So long as he was there, she didn’t fear the confrontations.

Her eyes flicked to the foreign ring. She toyed with it between her fingers and sent it hovering in her palm.

“Vizh?”

“Yes?”

“What do _you_ remember?”

Nothing at first and then, “I remember Wakanda. I remember you crying and trying to soothe you. I remember… it was dark and light, like energy both failed and powered me. Almost as if I was tugged in two directions. Then… then it was quiet. Familiar, even. That’s how I knew I had escaped into your mind. All I wanted was to curl up in that sensation and never leave. Then I was pulled elsewhere, but when I woke up, I was sitting at that cafe. You appeared on the streets… and I’ve never been happier.”

“I guess you don’t recognize this, then?”

Encasing the ring in her powers, she pushed it to Vision. He caught it midair and scrutinized its details.

“It’s vibranium,” he murmured. “I cannot say I know it, though.”

Slipping out of her seat, she circled around to join his side. Wanda scooped Wiccan free from his arm, who meowed in protest, and settled him on the floor. Vision stayed entranced with the ring. She nestled into him, kissing his neck. Closing her hand over his and the ring, Wanda worked her magic. Red energy penetrated his mind and flooded him with the same images she experienced not long ago.

They were borrowed memories of a life they never lived. Blood stained neither of their hands. Only smiles greeted one another. A question accompanied that ring and tears followed. Nothing like what Wanda wept that morning. Not even close.

Her powers faded once the feedback ended. Vision caught his breath, a shudder traveling his body. His expression contorted, focused on the closed fist around the ring.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” he said above a whisper.

“For what?”

He inhaled and continued. “Had I known that my own wishes and desires would bleed into yours when you created this world, I might have erased them altogether.” Vision uncurled his fingers to reveal the ring. “My most sincere desire was to experience a human life. Observation has its benefits, but to live it? How wonderful that would be. Sadly, I don’t think it’s possible for me to imagine such a thing without you by my side. I… wanted more than your happiness, Wanda. I wanted _us_ to be happy—in the most human way possible. You continue to amaze me and I know neither of us are fit for society’s conventions, but I wondered… if circumstances were different… if we belonged in a world for once, without expectations and constraints… maybe then we could live like everyone else while still being ourselves. I can understand if this isn’t what you want and I’d never fault you for saying no, but—”

Turning to face Wanda and clutching her hand to his chest, Vision dropped to one knee and brought his blue eyes to her.

“If you would allow it,” he said, “I swear I’ll stay with you for a thousand lifetimes.”

Wanda blinked. Tears caught in her eyelashes. Whatever she wished to say lodged in her throat. She wanted to laugh, to scream, to jump until her legs gave out, but above all, she wanted to kiss away those baseless fears he convinced himself were even remotely a possibility.

She shook her head and smiled. “Why would you ever think I’d say no to you?”

He rose to his feet and sealed it with a kiss before she finished those words. Her heart skipped with each, deep motion of his lips. Nothing was soft or quaint about it; something more fervent fueled them.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he breathed against her lips when they reluctantly broke the kiss for air.

“So long as you don’t let Tony plan it,” Wanda teased, “I’m beyond okay with this.”

A sly smile brushed over her. “Then that’s all that matters.”

“Well….”

“Hmm?”

Wanda tapped a finger against his chest. “I have a request myself.”

“Anything.”

She skimmed the hem of his shirt, restraining herself from tearing it free. “You said this was a world where we both belong. Someplace where I don’t need to hide anymore.” Green eyes flicked up to meet blue ones. “Neither should you, Vizh.”

“I… I thought you would—” He closed his eyes “— _prefer_ this.”

“I prefer _you_ , silly. How you really are.”

Several breaths flowed through her before he responded. He did so without words; a single hand rested on hers, a subtle ripple washing his exposed skin to give way to a magenta complexion. She admired him shedding his human guise for his true form. No matter how he looked, he was still _him_ , the man who shared her heart.

And when he opened his eyes, perfectly symmetric rings enveloped his striking irises. Something human and something not. Just like her. Almost, but not quite.

That was what she loved about him.

“Better?” he asked, a hint of insecurity lacing his words.

Wanda stood on her tiptoes to bump her nose with his. “Perfect.”

He mirrored her small smile, squeezing her close. “I think I could get used to this.”

She caressed his face with her left hand, the vibranium ring on her finger gleaming in the golden light flooding the loft. “I already have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endless thanks to both my awesome beta reader and braintwin [wingsyouburn](https://wingsyouburn.tumblr.com/) for helping me with my first MCU fic and to all of you lovely readers for your support! You all made this step into unknown territory for me fandom-wise an absolute treat ♥ ♥ ♥ I hope you all enjoyed this angsty, yet fluffy fix-it :D


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